Just Ask
by Avispotions
Summary: Story follows the Battle of Hogwarts. Surviving Death Eaters seek to capture and master the Hallows. A new prophecy involving Severus Snape is made. Legends traversing Japan and Egypt come together and a new battle begins. Harry, Hermione, and Ron unite as adults to stop the evil from returning again… rating may change to M due to violent scenes in later chapters. Just to be safe.
1. Don't die!

His body rested against the weathered wall and only the involuntary twitching caused by his death throes broke the eerie silence of the dusty room; the dry rasp of fabric scrapping crumbling paint, the light staccato of boot heels catching intermittently on the hard ground, and the pained, drowning breaths of lungs unable to draw air. Movement gradually stilled and eyes nearly as black as onyx became fixed with a glassy stare. The hand that held fiercely onto the robes of the Boy Who Lived abruptly slackened and landed with a sickly thud in a pool of blood as it struck the worn floor.

The high, cold voice of Voldemort could then be heard by the three occupants of the Shrieking Shack, shattering the paralysis that had fallen over them from the horror they had just witnessed, and reverberating through the interior of Hogwarts, addressing the defenders of the school and allowing them an hour of reprieve from the battle in which to tend to their wounded. An hour of peace, and then the Dark Lord would begin to personally slaughter any that stood in his way if Harry Potter did not reveal himself.

Harry glanced at Snape's body, in shock at his violent death and the realisation that soon it would be he who faced the monster that had brought death upon the man before him. He grabbed his invisibility cloak while still clutching the flask, desperate to see the final message that was contained in the surprising gift of tears from a person usually devoid of emotion. The memories in hand, he hurried past his two stunned friends, determined to discover how this would affect the final hours of the war.

"Quick, I need to get to Dumbledore's pensieve!" Harry shouted over his shoulder when his companions remained frozen in place, staring at the macabre scene.

He dropped down into the tunnel that led from the shack and Ron quickly scrambled to follow him. Hermione hesitated, dread and mortification overwhelming her.

"I've forgotten something! I will meet you in the Great Hall!" she yelled in their direction.

The boys were so focused on returning to the castle and escaping from the scene of Snape's demise, that they gave little thought to her absence and trusted the brilliant witch to rejoin them as she claimed she would. As they exited through the gap in the roots of the Whomping Willow, however, Ron paused indecisively beneath the tree and shot an apprehensive glance back before jogging to catch up with Harry.

Hermione looked down at her former professor, unsure of her feelings or motivation for not running away as well, even though she was gripped with a strong urge to flee.

This dark Death Eater, the terror of Hogwarts, with his nasty comments and snide remarks, bled out onto the wooden floor. All that remained was little more than the shell of a once powerful man. Hermione felt an uncontrollable desire to touch him and she knelt by the motionless form. Snape's chin had fallen down against his chest, curtains of blood-splattered black hair stuck to his pale cheeks.

Struck by an epiphany as she gazed at this wretched sight, she then saw the man Dumbledore had placed his trust in, and suddenly felt certain of what the memory given to Harry might contain.

A good wizard had been hidden beneath the shroud of a spy, traitor, and murderer, she was sure of it.

She reached out a trembling hand and touched his neck, expecting the cold, rigid feel of a corpse, but a faint throb and slight warmth were found by her chilled fingers instead. Hope flooded Hermione's mind at the possibility that the professor was still alive. Valuable time had been lost and he was on the very edge of the veil, teetering on the brink as the last ebb of life trickled away.

"Where there is life, there is hope," she said aloud. The determined Gryffindor knew this was why she had not run to Harry and Ron's side.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on Madam Pomfrey's office. Withdrawing her wand from her pocket, she raised it and murmured, "Accio blood replenisher". Almost instantly, it flew into her hand. With another flick of the wand, "Accio anti-venom" and again, "Accio dittany", she gathered the medical supplies around her.

She poured the anti-venom on the wide, ghastly lacerations and watched the potent substance mix with his blood, praying that it would be effective against Nagini's poison. Fumbling briefly in panic with the various bottles, she applied dittany to Professor Snape's neck, her hand shaking as the contents of the vial splashed onto his skin. The dark liquid fizzed before flesh slowly began knitting together and the bleeding stopped.

Crawling closer on her knees, she turned to look at his face. The view of his dead, sightless eyes made her heart plummet and question her frantic, inadequate actions. She should be in the Great Hall right now, helping to heal the injured and grieving for the dead.

But this man was a loss to the war as well, and Hermione decided he deserved the attention, even if it was only in death. All of the other heroes that died this day would have mourners, all except for this man. Severus Snape had no one and she decided to either save him or mourn his passing.

While brushing the strands of matted hair from his face, she tilted his chin up and cradled his head in the crook of her left arm, then pried his parched lips open with the fingers of her right hand. Slightly repelled at holding the snarky old Potions master in such an intimate way, she tried to hold back the nausea threatening to overpower her at the smell of bodily fluids and death assailing her nose. She then gave life a final shot and emptied the blood replenisher into his mouth. The potion bubbled back up and dripped down along his jaw. Realising that he no longer possessed a swallow reflex, she massaged the fluid down his throat.

Whilst her hand could feel the rough stubble under his chin, she became aware that she could no longer feel that pulsating beat that meant life. Sobs shook her slender frame, her face becoming drenched in tears and mucus. She wiped a hand across her nose in a vain attempt to clear the mess, smearing dirt and the professor's blood over herself. Peering through bleary eyes, Hermione looked for a last time at the one cradled in her arms.

"Come on, professor, look at me," she pleaded, uselessly echoing his words to Harry. "Look at me, please... please, professor, don't die!"

The distraught girl racked her brains for any other life saving methods, she could think of plenty of muggle ones; CPR, mouth to mouth resuscitation,as she thought of the likelihood of any of these options working on a powerful wizard, another sob escaped her. She hovered over his dry, cracked lips, with the idea of mouth to mouth. The uselessness of such an action hit her before she made contact with the dying proffesor. However finding herself so close to the professors face, She childishly pressed her mouth to his anyway, while her tears dripped down onto him. She tried not to shudder at the vile taste of death. Quickly removing her lips from his mouth she let out a hysterical laugh, her thoughts mocked her naivety. 'How stupid! what was that going to do? I'm not a princess trying to wake a prince for heaven's sake, this is not a fairy tale, so what was the point of that, why did I do it?'

At that moment she knew it was time to give up and say goodbye to the misunderstood man. 'When there's no help left to give, a kiss goodbye is free to Bestow. At least if any part of him was still conscious, it will have let him know that in the final moments of his life, someone tried to save him, someone understood him, if only for a few minutes before he died. In the calm acceptance of the inevitable, as she waited to be sure that the professor had died, Hermione contemplated that oldest form of magic, the one Voldemort always ignored and failed to master. The power they hoped to destroy him with was merely the simple love of a human for their fellow-man, given freely in hope and forgivness. The Greeks had called this love agape; a principled, self-sacrificing love greater than any other. Maybe that was the reason for the chaste kiss given a moment ago. There was no denying that this man had been truly horrible to them all for a long time. But as Dumbledore's spy, what had been real? What was a mask? His memories would tell. It didn't matter, he was gone, but maybe the kiss sent him in peace. Hermione couldn't help feeling that if he was aware of her odd action, he would be screaming inside at the very thought of a Gryffindor girl behaving so in appropriately with very little dignity. Hermione looked at the still professor with sorrow. Agape love seemed to have come much too late to aid the fallen wizard.

A bitter taste filled her mouth as she slowly drew back from him. Horrified, she realised what she had just done. She had ingested a small amount of the poison that lingered on Professor Snape's lips.

"How could I be so stupid?" she moaned.

Grabbing one of the bottles scattered beside her, she hastily opened it and swallowed what was left of the anti-venom. Soon, she began to retch, and then she heard a rasping, rattling noise of someone trying to breathe,Was that the Proffesor?It was a sound she didn't think was coming from her. As her eyes started to close, she was still hoping against hope for the continuation of his life, her life, the lives of everyone she held dear, and for victory against Voldemort.

She tightly clutched Snape's body to herself and whispered in a frail voice, "Please, someone help us all."

And like in a dream, she heard a voice softly say, "Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

She felt a rush of air, heard a hint of a sweet melody, and then the quiet flapping of wings. Little droplets fell onto her face as the world faded away...

* * *

Whispered words, muffled footsteps, the smell of enforced hygiene with the pungent odors of astringents and raw alcohol, penetrated Hermione's sleeping mind.

The small witch lay prostrate on her trolley medical bed.

Three young people had their heads on the bed, sound asleep. Two of the sleeping visitors had shocks of red hair and the other an untidy thatch of brown hair. Hermione's fingers twitched and between her eyelashes she could make out a shaft of bright light. Her lips were parched and her throat blazed. The gears in her mind began to turn; she knew she was in a hospital before she fully pried her sore eyelids apart. As she began to stir, Harry woke up with a jolt.

"Hermione, it's us. You're ok now. Do you need anything? What can we do?"

Ginny and Ron also sat up with a start, grabbing at Hermione's hands.

"Who won?" was the breathless and labored reply.

"We did. He's gone for good and he can't hurt us anymore. We have lost lots of friends, but we are so pleased you're awake." Harry coughed as he tried not to cry. "I don't think I could have borne it if my best friends hadn't made it through. We've fought so hard. We had to finish together."

As Harry finished speaking they all leaned over Hermione in a joint kind of a hug.

"Blimey, Harry," breathed Ron, "Hermione can't say you have the emotional depth of a teaspoon. That was almost poetic, mate."

Hermione tried to smile but grimaced in pain at the same time.

"Hermione, I'm going to get the mediwitch. You need a pain reliever and they need to know you're back with us. I will be back in a minute." Ginny bustled off to find the healers.

"How long have I been here?" Hermione asked in her very small, pained voice.

"A week. Honestly, Hermione, we were all so worried. Mum has been absolutely demented about you," gushed Ron. "We all have been, actually." He blushed.

"Did I miss Fred's...?" Hermione started but couldn't finish as a wave of nausea rolled over her at the thought of the Weasleys' loss.

Two fat tears dropped off Ron's nose. "No, his memorial is next Tuesday," he sniffed, "but you are not to come if the mediwitch says no; you've been in a coma for a week."

The boys sat at opposite sides of Hermione, each holding one of her hands as her eyes started to close.

"I think you need your painkillers and a rest," said Harry, pushing his glasses up higher on his nose with one finger as they had slipped down.

"Don't leave me," Hermione croaked.

"We will stay if we can," Harry whispered "Rest now, please. Don't worry, you're safe."

The mediwitch bustled in, followed closely by Ginny, and in a low soothing tone she said, "Hello, my dear. You can have no idea how happy everyone is that you are awake, but I think you need to have some pain potion and a dreamless sleep potion to help you recover fully. I'm going to give them to you now, my love."

The fussy but kind-looking mediwitch lifted Hermione's head gently and fed her the potions. Noticing how dry her patient's mouth was, she quickly cast a moisture replenishing charm on her. Laying the girl back down, she straightened her sheets and did a quick vitals spell, which she transferred to a chart at the end of the bed with a flick of her wand.

The door opened again and a tall, severe wizard dressed in healers robes glided into the room.

"I hear our heroine has briefly awoken. May I have her charts? I wish to see if the anti-venom I brewed has cleared her system fully," he said as he walked over with his hand outstretched.

"Yes, here they are, Healer Smethwyck."

Healer Smethwyck took the charts, flipping through them with his furrowed brow indicating his concern, but his expression lightened as he read the most recent note.

Smethwyck looked around the room and spotted Ron and Ginny. "I would hazard a guess that you are both Weasleys with those red heads of yours."

The siblings grimaced politely; they had heard this many times before.

"Your father was in this ward a few years ago, and it's purely because I was the healer that day that I knew which antidote to use for this young lady. It was the same snake. She's very lucky." He smiled at them and as he spoke, the severity of his officious look slipped for a moment. "Now, I am sorry but visiting hours on the Dai Llewelyn ward are very strict and they ended an hour ago. You all look so exhausted. You need to recover too. It is time to leave, but you may come back tomorrow."

As the mediwizard spoke, Hermione stirred restlessly as if she could still hear and was unhappy, despite, for all intents and purposes, appearing to be asleep.

Harry coughed sheepishly. "Please, Healer Smethwyck, I just promised her she wouldn't be alone. We also don't know where her parents are at the moment. Could one of us stay?" Harry looked at the healer pleadingly.

"It's difficult to refuse our heroes anything," he sighed. "You are not to worry her with unnecessary talk if she wakes. You must call the healer on duty. Do you understand?"

"Well, yes, it's not complicated and I'm not daft," snapped Harry.

"We are all concerned for her, Mr. Potter," replied the healer.

"I apologize, sir. Lack of sleep has given me a short temper. We are grateful for the care you and your staff have shown her," placated Harry.

"Healer Pertwee, can you make the necessary sleeping arrangements and see the rest of Miss Granger's well-wishers out?" He nodded at the fussy little witch and turned to leave. "Thank you for saving the wizarding world, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley," he said, walking past Ginny to go through the door. "You too, miss. Goodnight. Get some sleep."

Then he disappeared down the long white hallway.

"All right then, who's staying?" asked Healer Pertwee in cheerful tones.

Harry turned his tired face to look at his friends.

"Ginny, Ron, you both need to see your mother and give her the good news. She needs you under her roof for a while with the rest of your family. I will stay. You guys and Hermione are the only family I have, so I need to. Do you mind, Ginny?" He smiled up at her while running his hand through his hair, which was already a mess from briefly sleeping against Hermione's bed.

"Not at all, that's fine." Ginny yawned, then smiled and kissed Harry's forehead.

"Urgh, that I didn't need to see! Pass me Hermione's sick bucket, I need to share," Ron snorted with a disgusted look on his face. "See you in the morning, Harry. We will be back after breakfast. Send a patronus if you need anything, mate. You know, like some of mum sausages, 'cause the food here… Well, the less said the better. Yuck." The redhead shuddered.

"Ronald, is your stomach all you think about?" snapped Ginny

"Is snogging Harry all you think about?" retorted Ron.

Harry laughed. "Goodnight, guys."

He could still hear their voices as they traipsed away down the corridor.

"Don't make me bat bogey you, Ronald!"

Their familiar bickering made him chuckle. It was a slow process, but some things were slowly going back to normal and it felt better.

The mediwitch conjured a small put up bed by Hermione's. She then gave Harry some hospital issue pajamas, and he was pleased to note that his backside would be covered. He thanked the witch and went to wash and change in the bathroom. When he came out he thanked her again, then she dimmed the lights and wished him a goodnight. The exhausted teen gratefully climbed into bed, removed his glasses to a bedside cabinet, and lay down under the cool sheets. He reached over and stroked Hermione's hand.

"Goodnight," he whispered . He was asleep almost instantly.

Some hours later, Hermione shifted in disturbed sleep, the stiff hospital sheet rustling as she moved.

In her dream she saw a pale face, blood-splattered and grotesque. A silvery, shining substance was pouring out of every orifice on the face and long, dark, matted hair stuck to the tortured visage in wisps. Cold, black, dead eyes looked back at her. Hermione knew it was a dream.

'It's a dream, it's a dream,' she chanted to herself in her head.

But that countenance was burned onto the back of her retinas. Despite her pain, she sat up and screamed and screamed and then screamed a name, as her voice began to crack with the strain.

At the first scream, Harry yelled in fright and sat up. He fumbled for his glasses and grabbed his wand, shouted "lumos", then trained his wand on Hermione. She was sobbing, violent shakes wracking her body with every breath, and whispering, having lost the vocal ability to make a noise any louder.

Harry jumped onto her bed and sat behind her to hold her arms in order to stop the flailing. Once he had control, he began pushing her bushy hair out of her face and cooing consolingly to her, rocking her gently from side to side. He had already summoned the healer on duty, and as he waited for one to appear he listened to Hermione's murmuring. It was the same as the shrieking words from before, repeated over and over again.

"Professor, sir, look at me. Please, look at me."

Harry nearly fell off the bed when he put two and two together and recalled the name that she had screamed when she woke him up...

"Severus Snape!"

Two healers ran into the room, pushed Harry away from the bed, and gently restored the trembling woman to a more comfortable position. While carefully holding her in place, they turned their gazes inquiringly to the weary, young man.

"I think it was a nightmare. We watched a professor die in front of us and I think she just relived it. To be honest, I want to ask her about it when she's well. Something's strange about it," Harry explained.

One of the healers looked again at Hermione, cast some diagnostic spells and checked her vitals.

"Ok, the dreamless sleep potion must have run out. I will give her another dose. It's three in the morning, so I will give her enough till 8 o'clock."

The mediwizard began measuring said dose as he spoke. He administered the correct amount and turned to speak to Harry again. His colleague tucked Hermione back in and attempted to smooth her wild hair away from her face.

"May I give you some too, Mr. Potter? I think you need a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. I will check on you both every half hour and I will set wards to warn me of any disturbance. Will you accept the potion?"

Harry sighed. He was exhausted and his dreams were filled with the dead, too. "Yes please, just a little less than Hermione. I have to be there when she wakes up."

The healer nodded and started making up the dosage. Harry glanced at Hermione and was relieved to see her sleeping peacefully once more. For the second time that night, he removed his glasses and placed his wand under his pillow.

He wondered what reason she had for dreaming about Snape.

'So many died… Why focus on that one death? I'll ask her as soon as she is able to talk,' he thought.

The new savior of the wizarding world took his potion and sank into a blissful oblivion.

Four hours later, Harry opened his eyes, at a loss for a moment as to where he was. His memories righted themselves while he rubbed his bloodshot eyes. Peering groggily around the room, he automatically stretched out his arm and felt about for his glasses. Finding them, he popped them on, bringing the St. Mungo's private hospital room into focus. He rolled onto his side and saw Hermione still sleeping serenely. Stretching, he removed the thin sheet from his body and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The same healer that had been there a few hours before popped his head in from around the door.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter. I trust you had a good sleep in the end. Shall I remove the wards now?"

Harry smiled and nodded. "I did, thanks. Please call me Harry. Can I freshen up? My hair never behaves at the best of times but I can tell it looks like I've been petrified this morning! I don't want to scare Hermione back into a coma."

The healer laughed "It's pretty freaky hair, it has to be said. Yes, of course. You know where everything is. The bathroom is fully stocked with all necessary hygiene products."

"Thank you," Harry replied.

After saying that he would return in an hour to see how Hermione was, the mediwizard withdrew back into the corridor.

Harry stood up and stretched again, took his wand from under the pillow, grabbed the rumpled jeans and t-shirt he had worn yesterday, and then strolled into the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, a much refreshed and tidier young man walked back into the room and took a seat by Hermione's side and waited for her to wake up.

Hermione eyes fluttered, her hands twitched, but this time she calmly awoke without incident. The potions had eased the pain in her mouth and throat, and left her mind feeling greatly revitalized.

"Good morning, 'Mione." Harry smiled and he bent over to kiss her cheek. "Your hospital breath is foul… That will keep the nargles away!" teased Harry.

Hermione huffed out an amused breath. "Is Luna ok?"

"Yes, and I'm receiving daily owls that peck me to death asking when she and Neville can see you. I said I would ask when you were fully awake," replied Harry.

"I want to see them whenever they can come," Hermione said quietly, so as not to strain her sore throat.

"Good. I will send an owl and make it bite them until they send a time of visit." Harry displayed the pecks on his arm from Luna's owls.

Hermione smiled in response. "Thank you for looking after me so well, I feel so much better." She turned away for a second. "I'm sorry, Harry."

"What for?" asked Harry.

"For staying behind. For not going back to the Great Hall. I may have cost lives."

"Don't be silly. You saved many lives over the last seven years and lost none in the last battle. Nobody died after the hour of collecting our dead and wounded." As Hermione winced at the thought, Harry ploughed on. "You're brilliant, Hermione. You are the brightest witch of our age and this war would not have been won without you," he finished.

"I still should have followed and helped. I made a mistake." Hermione gulped painfully.

"I need to write that down in a diary. Hermione made a mistake, underlined. You never make mistakes and I'm sure you didn't this time but what did you do? Why did you stay behind? And how did you get poisoned by Nagini?" The questions were tumbling out of Harry's mouth now. "Why did you scream out Professor Snape's name last night, his first name at that?" Harry stopped and looked horrified. "Merlin's pants, I'm... I'm sorry, Hermione. I was going to wait until you were well to ask you those questions. You... you don't have to answer anything. Don't worry, just get better. It's fine. It's all fine," stuttered Harry.

Hermione shook her head. "It's alright, Harry. I feel so much better, but if I can just get rid of the hospital breath you so kindly pointed out, and well, you know, I really need the loo. So, if you could get a healer to help me, then when I'm fresher, tell me what I missed and I will tell you about my mistake."

As if on cue, the healer lightly tapped on the door and walked into the room.

"Good morning, Miss Granger. Mr. Potter, would you like to go to the canteen and get a coffee? I need to run some more tests." He gently pushed Harry towards the door as he spoke. "Pop back in half an hour. We will be all sorted then."

Harry left Hermione with a cheerful wave and went off in the search of coffee. Having purchased it to go, he went outside St. Mungo's to get some breathing space. There were too many staring eyes in the canteen, too many questions in the air. Harry wasn't ready yet for this. His mental scars and wounds were too fresh and he needed just a little longer to recover. Sucking in the crisp morning air and sipping from his paper cup, he enjoyed the feeling of being alive and not expecting death at any second. He pulled his wand out of his pocket, flourished it determinedly, and thought of his friends and their victory.

"Expecto Patronum," he uttered firmly. Silver light erupted from his steady wand and a beautiful ethereal stag bolted off into the horizon.

'Always breathtaking, always cathartic,' Harry thought as he watched it disappear.

He turned around, finished his coffee and marched back through the entrance of St. Mungo's.

At the burrow, a sleepy red-headed family was awoken to a stag gracefully galloping on air through the various rooms until it found Mr. and Mrs. Weasley getting ready to face the day.

Harry's voice rang out from the stag, "Hermione's up, awake and looking forward to visitors."

The stag turned and disappeared, having fulfilled its mission.

Molly Weasley hugged her husband. "Oh Arthur, this is the first time I felt anything since Fred... I'm just so glad we are not going to lose her, too."

Arthur Weasley hugged his wife in return and kissed the top of her head. "So am I, Molly, so am I."

There was a knock at the door. Molly and Arthur broke apart.

"Yes, Ron and Ginny make sVome breakfast and get ready to go visit your friend with mum! She's going to be fine!" shouted out Mr. Weasley. Adding under his breath, "We are all going to be fine."


	2. The reluctant patient

Harry knocked at the door of the private room in the Dai Llewelyn ward.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, come on in. Hermione and I have finished for the morning and she is doing marvelously well." The healer beamed.

"Healer Smethwyck will be in this afternoon, but I have to say he will be very pleased with your recovery, Miss Granger. I will leave you with your friend now and breakfast will be brought to you shortly." He left the room with a little nod towards Harry.

Harry stood to one side to let him past and came to sit in the chair next to Hermione's bed.

"How are you feeling?" he inquired

"Fresher, more comfortable. Thank you, Harry. How are you?" Hermione's voice was sounding a lot stronger now.

"I'm ok, I think. It's a bit too much to think about, really. I don't want to speak to reporters; it's too fresh, too raw. Yet, they have started following me, demanding answers and I don't think I'm handling it that well, but otherwise I feel like a burden has been lifted from my shoulders… Today, now you are out of danger, I feel light and carefree. It's novel; I have never felt like that before," confessed Harry

"I understand all that, Harry. Can you cope with telling me what I missed when you went to the pensive? Can you explain how we won the war?" Hermione queried.

"Yes, of course I can. It's strangers I don't want to talk to," was Harry's keen reassurance.

And then Harry started to tell Hermione about the final hours of the battle. He spoke of his sacrifice in the woods and his pretending to be dead so he could bring Voldemort down. He then explained how Voldemort wasn't the master of the Elder Wand and that he, himself, held that position. He described Voldemort's shock at discovering Professor Snape's loyalties to Dumbledore, and how his lack of understanding of the strong bond of love was indeed Voldemort's doom. Finally, after a moment of hesitation, he began listing who had died and who had survived as they both silently cried.

There was a pause while Hermione processed the information.

Harry wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand and waited for Hermione to say something.

"What about Professor Snape?" A tremor could be heard running through her voice.

"Dead, Hermione, you know that. We all watched him die."

Hermione's expression crumbled. "He didn't, Harry, he didn't. I checked… He had a pulse."

"What?" exclaimed Harry. "No, he can't have. What happened, Hermione? Why were you poisoned?"

Hermione took a shallow breath and started her tale of what happened on the floor when, in the murk and despair, she had put her arms around the professor. She failed to mention exactly how she was contaminated by venom.

"'Help will always come to those who ask,'" repeated Harry as Hermione exhaustedly finished her tale. "When I was in the Chamber of Secrets, I heard that and Dumbledore sent Fawkes. He healed me with his tears." Harry paused. "I think it was a phoenix you heard just before you passed out. That might be why Nagini's venom didn't kill you."

"Don't forget, Harry, it was a minuscule amount I ingested. I may have survived without the tears. Anyway, I didn't need as much help as the professor. That's why I asked for help for him; it wasn't for me."

"But he had been thoroughly attacked by Nagini and his body would have been riddled with poison. He couldn't survive that. You must have known. Why did you care enough to risk your life for him?" asked Harry, puzzled.

"Because he risked his life for us," was the rapid response.

"No, Hermione, he gave his life for us," said Harry with a small, sad voice.

"Who found me, Harry? I need to know what they did with his body." Hermione looked pleadingly at him as she spoke.

"That's morbid, 'Mione. Let it go." Harry's face was stricken as he stared into Hermione's wide brown eyes.

"Please, Harry, I need to know. Something feels wrong."

Harry sighed. "I will go and talk to a few people, see what I can find out. Mrs. Weasley will be here any minute. Will you be all right to face her alone? You're about to be cuddled to death." He smiled as he stood to leave.

"I can't wait to see her, but I'm afraid about what to say to her," admitted Hermione.

"We all are afraid about the grief of others; it's a harsh reality of war. We must help her as much as we can. What about your own parents, 'Mione? What are we going to do about them?" he queried

"I need to go to Australia and give them their memories back… If I can," there was an inflection of worry in her voice.

"Excellent, we are coming with you… Australia. That's just what we need; a holiday, a road trip without fear for our lives." With a grin, he added, "Let's stay in hotels. No tents."

Harry ignored Hermione's insecurities about her ability to restore her parents' memories.

'Let's face that when we get there,' he thought.

The smile that formed was the most radiant she had managed in a long time. "You're going to come with me?"

"For the brightest witch of our age, you can be very daft sometimes." Harry chuckled.

"Right, I'm off on my mission and I may be some time. I will leave you to Mrs. Weasley's ministrations." He looked towards the hall. "I think I can hear her arguing with Ginny, so I'm definitely off." With that he shot through the doorway.

* * *

Many miles away in a room also filled with the clinical smells of healing, someone else was stirring and slowly returning to consciousness.

Weary, dark eyes began to assess the surroundings.

This was a room he had never seen before, but everything felt familiar. He was lying on a mahogany four poster bed that had heavy, dark green, velvet drapes.

Mahogany bookshelves filled one wall and there was a cozy leather armchair by a stone fireplace. The floors were a highly polished dark wood, the walls a warm cream that were patterned by the flickering red and orange glows of the fire, and the lights were dull. It was warm and comforting.

All this comfort at first disguised the room's purpose. On closer inspection, every conceivable medical potion and apparatus was available within huge wooden cabinets, encased by thick, lead-glass doors. The scent of medicinal herbs pervaded the air, soothing the senses. The ceiling shimmered beautifully, delicate shapes twisting across it like the shimmering fumes from an exotic potion brewed in a golden cauldron.

The sallow-skinned man with his pronounced hook nose was taking this all in, only his half-opened eyes moving.

A deep groan emitted from his mouth, as with full consciousness came full pain. He felt something move on the bed by his feet. A tabby cat was watching him, eyes glinting dangerously as it jumped from the bed to the floor.

"Minerva," whispered the man, his face contorting with a fresh stab of agony.

The tabby disappeared and by the bedside was a severe-looking woman with bright, piercing eyes. Her hair was in a bun and she wore a long, traditional, teaching robe. She smiled and her face creased with friendly wrinkles.

"Welcome back, Severus. I had forgotten how beautiful your voice could sound."

Professor Snape snarled

"When you're not snarling, of course," she added.

"Where am I?" he asked.

"At Hogwarts," she answered while fetching a potion from one of the cabinets.

"I've never seen this room," he rasped. Another aftershock of pain shot through his neck and into his head, making him hiss in misery.

"You wouldn't have seen this room, Severus. This is the room of requirement and it is only here when you require it, as you know. At the moment, you need comfort, homeliness, and serious medical treatment, so it's here for your requirements," she stated as she began to measure the dosage for him.

"Minerva?" he said questioningly.

"Yes?" she replied, looking into his eyes.

"I'm supposed to be dead. Why am I still alive?"

"I don't know. There are a lot of things I don't understand, but there's to be an enquiry, then we will know. Severus, take this potion for the pain."

She held the spoon to his mouth. The wizard glared at the spoon and the rage he felt caused the spoon and its contents to fly out of Professor McGonagall's outstretched hand, blasting itself into the fireplace.

"I wanted to die. Just let me die," he spat out, trembling with the effort and energy of so much fury and disappointment.

Professor McGonagall recoiled, dismay and pity filling her eyes. She raised her wand and, before Snape could even react, pointed it at him, muttering "Petrificus Totalus". She shook her head slowly and sadly while looking at the inert Severus Snape, his horrified eyes open and fixed.

"I'm sorry. It's for your own good. I'm going to have to give you pain reliever and a dreamless sleep potion. If this is the only way, so be it." She took a syringe, mixed the potions, and forced it between his clenched lips. "Enervate," she murmured, placing her hand to his lips to stop him from spitting it out.

He convulsed out of his petrified state, choking and gagging on the liquid in his mouth. He swallowed most of it, but some spilled out over his pillow and face. Quick as a flash, McGonagall poured more potions down before he had the chance to recover.

"All done, Severus. Sorry, but you needed these," consoled McGonagall. "Scourgify," she said, waving the wand over him to clear the spilt potion from his bedclothes.

The spasms shaking his body started to lessen, the discomfort noticeably ebbing away. He rolled onto his side, evidence that with the removal of pain he had regained some mobility.

"Feeling better?" the witch inquired softly, fully aware that Severus had turned his back on her and had tried to put as much distance between them as possible.

There was no reply but a low, half-swallowed sob.

The professor stayed motionless, watching the man's back tremble beneath the sheets. As he started to still, she walked around the bed to check if he was asleep. The dreamless sleep had done its job; Severus was unconscious, his greasy-looking hair hanging over his pale face.

Reaching out, McGonagall swept his hair back and tucked it behind his ear, like a mother with a sick son.

'Although, his own mother probably never gave him such attention,' she thought grimly.

"Sleep well, Severus. I hope you will be glad to be alive, one day." And with that she left the room.

Some hours later, Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall walked back into Snape's room of requirement. The wizard had remained on his side but his breathing was slow and regular, a clear indication of how much he had improved during his sleep.

Severus heard the witches enter and mentally groaned. Although feeling better, he was still suffering random aftershocks following all the curses he had been on the receiving end of. He could move very little without pain and he didn't want to be there. What he wanted was to be with Lily; poor, dead, finally avenged Lily. Deep down, he knew that she was neither his in life or death, and belonged to Potter.

He had nothing in life and nothing in death, but at least if he was dead, he could stop tormenting himself. Yes, death was preferable to what he had now.

His position was intolerable, and right now, lying in pain, feeling useless and humiliated, he wanted to know who had kept him tethered to this unbearable existence. Merlin himself would struggle to protect that unfortunate soul.

Bracing himself for the interrogations of McGonagall, he suddenly realized he needed the bathroom and it was now definitely too late. He felt his shame soaking through to his body and wished again for death.

"Are you experiencing discomfort, Severus?" questioned McGonagall as Madam Pomfrey busied herself with various bottles of potion.

"Obviously," was the irritated reply of a man trying to hide his embarrassment.

"Let's make you more comfortable."

She uttered cleansing spells and changed his black nightshirt and bed linen with a quick flick of her wand. Then she hoisted up the pillows and encouraged Severus to sit up.

Snape could not recall ever feeling less comfortable.

Madam Pomfrey walked over to the bed to help lift him up. Once he was propped up, she took the bandages off his neck. Faint scars betrayed a hasty patch up job; it clearly showed signs of opening and seeping a bit. She grabbed a bottle of dittany and started to dab his neck with the contents.

The faint aroma of oregano wafted over Professor Snape. He jolted and suddenly closed his eyes as a memory overwhelmed him. Granger crying, pain, Potter, the Dark Lord, feverish hands touching his neck, the hiss and burn of dittany, the drops of salt water falling on his face...

"I remember something. The dittany, the smell… the smell of herbs, the smell of damp and rotting wood, the smell of her; the Granger girl as she worked and cried." He paused and the two women stared at him in shock.

"Hermione was with you? How have you just remembered that?"

"There... There is a powerful association between scent and human memory. Nothing brings back a scene or person to the mind like a scent last experienced. The last strong scent I remember is dittany," he spoke breathlessly but very accurately, as always.

"I was brought back to this god awful life by that bloody little Gryffindor playing god and letting silly emotions get in her way!" he exclaimed in horror.

"Damn it!" he cursed as nausea and stomach cramps claimed him.

Madam Pomfrey conjured up a bowl and the man retched bile and blood into it, all the while trying to shake off her hand that was gently holding his hair back.

"You need to calm down," madam Pomfrey sighed. "You've always been a terrible patient, even when you were eleven. I would dread you being pushed into the medical wing."

She vanished the bowl, then cleaned his face with a warm towel and gave him a glass of water. He shakily raised it to his lips.

"How would Hermione save you merely with dittany?" mused professor McGonagall.

Snape handed the half empty glass back, sunk down onto the pillow and said, "I don't know, but I intend to find out."

McGonagall ignored this and asked, "Will you take some more dreamless sleep or are we going to fight about it again?"

"Just do what you want and then leave me alone," was the embittered response.

"Very well, as you please. I will give you enough for four hours and then we need to try some food. You are much better than before, so hopefully another few painless hours will have you on your way to being your usual terrifying self." She poured the potion as she spoke.

"Whatever," he grumbled childishly.

* * *

Meanwhile, Harry was drawing a blank as to what had happened with Snape's body. The healers that took charge when Hermione was admitted said that she was brought in by a search group looking for survivors.

Harry had tracked down a member of this group. He did indeed confirm that she was found next to Snape and that they returned for his body after getting Hermione to St. Mungo's, only to discover it was gone; they had assumed this to be part of a dark cause and reported him dead but missing.

'Well, that's weird,' Harry thought and decided it was time to return to Hogwarts and speak to a certain portrait; he would suggest a visit to the school after his friend recovered. He hurried to join Hermione and her Weasley visitors.

Hermione made steady progress and was allowed to attend Fred's funeral. In true Fred and George style, humour had been injected into the service as much as possible, but there was no taking away the hurt of the occasion. The young witch could only be glad that she had missed the Lupins' funerals; she didn't feel able to cope with any more sad occasions.

After the funeral, she returned to St. Mungo's and the next day they discharged her. Harry took her to Grimmauld Place, now his residence, and Ron flooed in to greet them on their return.

"Wow, it feels good to be out and with my friends!" she exclaimed.

Kreacher had prepared a lunch to welcome them home and they all happily tucked in.

"We have some things to talk about," Harry said, pushing his chair from the table, replete.

"Ready when you are," spluttered Ron with his mouth full.

"If we are going to talk, Ronald, you need to wait 'till you swallow. Honestly, some things never change, you greedy pig." Hermione laughed.

"Ok, we need to get Hermione's parents, but first we need to go to Hogwarts and see if there is any information about Snape."

"Professor Snape, Harry," corrected Hermione.

"Not any more; the slimy git no longer teaches us. I really can't see why this is important to you. Just let it go, 'Mione," responded Ron, obviously confused as to why anybody would desire to find out more about the potions master who terrified the living daylights out of him, regardless of his allegiance.

"Well, you wouldn't, Ronald, but it's something I need to do. No matter if he was a vile teacher, he did save our lives and he is still a war hero."

"Fair enough. If you need to, that's fine by me, as long as we are agreeing he's vile," Ron said, putting his hands up in mock surrender.

"I'm glad it's fine with you, Ronald, but I was going regardless of your blessing," she retorted.

"Stop calling me Ronald and calm down! Women, bloody hell. You're a bit touchy today. I know you would go anyway. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not an idiot," Ron said, grinning without a trace of malice. "Truth is I feel terrible. I wanted to go to Australia with you both to help get Mr. and Mrs. Granger back, and have a holiday with my two best friends," he confessed. "Problem being, mum has a nervous breakdown when any of us leave the house. I'm sorry, but she won't cope with me leaving for more than a few hours, not for now anyway," he finished sadly, his grin evaporating.

"Oh Ron, I'm sorry. I didn't think," Hermione admitted.

Harry thumped his best friend on the arm "Not going to be the same without you, but in a few months, when we are all back together again and things are easier for Mrs. Weasley, we will go on a celebration holiday and drink lots of fire whiskey and behave like teenagers. Let loose. We will have to regress; we seem to have missed out on being teenagers. You guys are twenty now!" Harry added

"Mum won't let Ginny go, if that's your plan. You will have to tell her we are going on a wildlife tour or something." Ron smiled.

Hermione snorted. "Like she would believe that, Ron; you wouldn't recognise an elephant if it crapped on you."

"I think I might, Hermione, but still, you have a point. Think of a good sensible holiday and that's what we will go with. I'm going to have to go now. Send me regular owls, please."

They stood up and walked to the fireplace.

"We will." Harry hugged Ron.

"Only if you promise to send us more than one line in response," Hermione said as she hugged him too.

"I might manage two lines." Ron grinned, released Hermione, and stepped into the fire. He withdrew the floo powder from his pocket, spoke "the burrow" clearly, and then he was gone.

"Let's get packing. I will owl Professor McGonagall and ask her to open up the floo network to us for the head's office. And when we are done, we will go straight to the Ministry of Magic, who have promised to transport us to Sydney," Harry said.

"Ok, let's pack."

"Oh, and Hermione, let's leave 'Hogwarts: A History' and 'Fantastic Beasts' at home, yeah? Just for the reckless novelty of it." Harry looked at Hermione with a twinkle in his eyes.

"I don't know, Harry. You just never know when it might be useful," she replied seriously.

* * *

Professor McGonagall paced the room of what was once Dumbledore's office. Harry and Hermione were due to arrive any minute.

"My dear, I don't think I have ever seen you so agitated. Have a sherbet lemon. There are still some left on the table. They're a bit dusty, though."

The new Headmistress looked up at the portrait of the previous Headmaster, his eyes twinkling merrily at her.

"Albus, even in death you're still trying to force your vile sweets on me. I'm agitated because I have spent the last few days looking after an overgrown child with a death wish. He would sooner curse me than look at me and I feel so desperately sorry for him, while wanting to hex him into the New Year at the same time. Why didn't you tell me he was a double agent? And why wouldn't you let him go to St. Mungo's to be treated by strangers? He may have found that less embarrassing. It mortifies him every time I attempt to help him." She looked at Albus closely and waited for his reply.

Dumbledore sighed. "The poor boy," was his low utterance.

"Hardly; he's a middle-aged man." McGonagall snorted.

"Yes, he is. He's a wizard who had no childhood and no life as a young man. He has lived on fear, control, and rage for his whole existence, while carrying as many burdens as Harry Potter himself, but making many more wrong decisions along the way. Since committing his mistakes, he has striven for atonement. I don't think he even knows he has achieved it, because he doesn't forgive himself. Unfortunately, Minerva, all he has left now is his pride and it's killing him, as you can see. He needs to learn that dependence isn't weakness and kindness is unconditional," he finished, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

"Well, all the best with that, Albus, because I doubt he will learn anything from me," she said lamely

"Oh, he will, Minerva. You care; you're protesting too much."

Another snort shot out.

"You do. I've seen how you look after him while he's asleep."

"It's the only time I like him," she replied.

Dumbledore chuckled. "He needs you; he just doesn't know it yet. I didn't want him to go to St. Mungo's because the press coverage would have crippled him further. He needs to be with those who understand what he did. Anyway, Madam Pomfrey is as skilled as any healer in any hospital. Also, between you and me, some Death Eaters may still be about, having run away at the battle, and they may be prepared for petty revenge schemes, all of which would put Severus in danger. As it is unlikely anyone will dare touch Harry again, Severus may look like an easy target to vent their disappointments. I intend to keep him here until the Ministry has completed a list of dead, captured, and escaped Death Eaters. The Aurors will hunt the stragglers down, and then I hope Severus can live for the first time." Dumbledore sat himself into a chair painted on his portrait and peered down at McGonagall through his half-moon spectacles.

"I hope so, Albus. But at the moment, if we don't watch him, I think he would rather kill himself than live. I think he's going to need a good reason to try. He needs something to live for." McGonagall began pacing again as she spoke.

"Let's hope we can find him one," said Dumbledore quietly.

The fire in the hearth blazed green.

"Mr. Potter's arriving, Albus."

"Good, good," was the voice from the portrait. "Do have a sherbet lemon, Minerva."


	3. Midlife tantrums

Harry Potter, swiftly followed by Hermione Granger, stumbled slightly from the fireplace and flicked some ash off his jeans.

"Professor McGonagall!" he exclaimed happily and reached out to hug his former Head of House.

"Hello, Harry, welcome back to Hogwarts. Hermione, my dear, I'm so glad you're better, although you still look like you need feeding up." McGonagall turned to embrace Hermione, too.

Harry looked around the room and noticed to his surprise that little had changed. Delicate silver instruments decorated various surfaces, the Sorting Hat sat on the shelf, and comfortable chairs and glinting objects of red and gold were scattered about. On the walls, the portraits of old Headmasters and Mistresses called out greetings and Harry's eyes were drawn to one in particular, his mentor and guide through the war.

The brilliant, yet frustrating, Albus Dumbledore spoke first.

"Well, Harry, you're here again. It's good to see you and Miss Granger once more. I trust that Mr. Weasley is tending to his family; you look incomplete without him."

Harry nodded. "Yes, his family needs him."

Dumbledore smiled. "I'm glad that he isn't making the same mistakes I did. If you have family, you must look after them with your heart, soul, and mind. He's a good man. I understand, Miss Granger, that you are off to find your family."

Hermione looked up at Dumbledore, nodded and said, "Harry's part of my family too, so he's helping me."

Dumbledore tilted his head in recognition of the relationship they had adopted.

"Harry, as lovely as it is that you are here, I can't help but wonder what prompted your visit." Professor McGonagall's eyes shifted between the pair as she spoke.

Hermione blushed. She suddenly felt a bit silly, and looking over at Harry, she could see he was discomfited as well.

"It's a long story and I feel uncomfortable telling it. Can I give you the memory, Professor, and you can see for yourself?"

"If that's what you want, dear. I will call a house-elf for you both to have a drink and a snack while I look at the memory."

With tea made and scones delivered, McGonagall performed the charm and teased the memory from Hermione's head in a long silvery wisp. She walked to the pensieve, dropped the memory in, and prepared to delve into the essence swirling within the stone basin.

After a few minutes of awkward silence between Harry and Hermione, McGonagall resurfaced and stared at Hermione like she was seeing her for the first time.

"My dear, whatever possessed you to remain with an apparent dead man?"

"I don't know what came over me. Wait a minute, you said apparent! Does that mean he wasn't dead?" Hermione's words came out rushed from her excitement.

"That's obviously what you're here to ask," McGonagall replied. "It was the phoenix, Albus. She asked for help after, well..." McGonagall stuttered slightly, "After she kissed him."

Harry spat his tea out, spraying the air and spluttering out, "You did what?"

Hermione put her hands over her face; she had forgotten that part of the memory. The young witch could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on her, including the portraits.

"I thought it would help. It was stupid. I was tired and sick of death, and well, it was daft," she spoke into her hands, not wanting to meet anyone's gaze.

"Blimey, Hermione… Sorry, but gross," whispered Harry.

"I know," said a mortified Hermione.

Dumbledore coughed. "You saved his life in a situation we thought was hopeless, and you did it in the only way possible. Without the kiss, the phoenix would not have responded and it was his tears that saved him. Fawkes reacted to that self-sacrificing love without gain," explained the portrait.

"No, Hermione, you don't... Ergh, that's not possible. You can't love him." Harry practically gagged on the words

"No, no, definitely not, no. So that can't be it," insisted Hermione quickly.

The late Headmaster smiled. "At that time, you saw something in Professor Snape. You appreciated his sacrifices and felt a genuine desire for his life to continue, a feeling that was stronger than the desire for your own life. That's love, Miss Granger. No, Harry, not that kind of love. Not Eros, but agape love; very different," finished Dumbledore, watching Harry's dismayed reaction.

"Anyway, in summary, Severus Snape is very much alive and very much the terror of the dungeons that we remember," chipped in McGonagall, who still looked confused by this chain of events.

"Can we see him?" asked Hermione.

"What… No, I don't want to see him. He hates me!" panicked Harry.

"Don't take it personally; he hates everyone at the moment," said McGonagall. "All right you two, I just want a private word with Albus. If you can wait in the house common room for me, we will talk. The password is 'victory'."

Harry and Hermione turned towards the door.

"Ok, we will see you in bit," answered Harry, and they disappeared.

"Well, Minerva."

"Well, Albus."

"I think we have just found something for Severus to live for."

Dumbledore smirked at the horrified expression on Professor McGonagall's face.

* * *

Professor McGonagall made her way to the Gryffindor common room. She was a little disturbed by Dumbledore's closing comments.

Muttering the password, she swept past the Fat Lady and into the room beyond. Harry and Hermione were sat on the sofa enjoying the familiarity of their once home away from home.

"It's nice to see you in your old rooms again. It's a shame that you both missed a whole year here. The Ministry is thinking of opening the school up for part-time study to the students who missed their N.E.W.T.s. You should get an owl as soon as Hogwarts is fully repaired. I hope you will think about it."

Hermione immediately looked interested "That's a good idea. It might be an option. Thank you for telling us," she answered for both herself and Harry.

"Well, my dears, Professor Snape is in the Room of Requirement. He is recovering but it is slow, and at the moment he is unable to look after himself. He will most likely not appreciate seeing anyone. Particularly you, Harry."

"I can't say I'm surprised. It's fine, I'm cool with it. He should see Hermione, though. He needs to know who saved him." Harry shrugged.

"I think that's the very last thing he should know. He wanted to die and he feels cheated, so, just for now, let's keep that to ourselves," confided Professor McGonagall

"Do you think I should have left him to die?" Hermione asked in a small voice.

"No, I think life has a lot to offer Severus, I just think we are going to have a very hard time proving it to him. And when he can barely walk and his pride is taking a hefty kick, it's clearly not the time to force his hand. It's up to you, Hermione. Do you need to see him?"

Hermione felt like she was being offered a get out of detention card but she didn't want to get out of it. 'I must have psychological trauma,' she thought.

"I need closure. I need to see him, and then I will leave to find my parents." Hermione stood up. "Can we get this over with?"

McGonagall nodded. "Let's go and visit Severus then, and see what happens. I simply hope he doesn't overreact. Wait here, Harry. I doubt we will be long." With that, the professor turned and propelled Hermione to the door.

It didn't take much time to go through the corridors of Hogwarts, to reach the Room of Requirement. What had been the sanctuary of Dumbledore's Army now housed Dumbledore's broken spy. Professor McGonagall motioned for Hermione to wait and disappeared into the room. A few minutes later, she returned.

"He's asleep and he looks a lot better. Why don't you sit with him for a few minutes, then at least you will have seen him and know that you can trust your last memory of him."

McGonagall ushered her in and sat her in a chair.

"I have some things to do, so I will be back in a little while, but you can leave whenever you want." She then turned and left.

Hermione suddenly wanted to follow her. She had so far avoided looking at her Potions master and now that she was here, she wanted to go. It felt like a complete intrusion on the man's privacy.

She peered over at the bed. He lay on his side, dark hair splayed out over his pillow and face, his slow rhythmic breathing making the bedding rise and fall gently. It felt wrong to be looking at him while he was oblivious. She wanted to see him patrolling Hogwarts and terrorizing first years, not this. Again, she was aware of a desire to touch him, maybe stroke his face, but she fought off this idea immediately. Shaking her head, she continued to watch him despite her discomfort, not even sure if she wanted him to wake up.

It was warm in the room from the fire. She started to feel drowsy and was therefore shocked when a voice hissed at her.

"I know you're there, Granger."

Suddenly, Hermione felt the room swim in front of her and then darkness consumed her, forcing image after image through her mind. She was there on that cold damp floor, pleading with death and begging her Potions master to stay alive. That desperate, pathetic kiss, the tears, and the screaming flared up in her consciousness with terrifying intensity.

Hermione was on her knees, her hands tearing at her hair, her head pounding. She felt a pulling and rough invasion like a robbery, a robbery of her mind. She sobbed as the pain receded.

"I knew it was you, you stupid girl. You are a fool! Just like Potter, you wear your heart on your sleeve and jump into idiot situations because of your emotions." Snape had turned to look at the prostrate girl, wincing from the change of position.

Hermione started to collect her thoughts.

"How dare you!" she hissed. "You just raped my mind! You had no right to do that! You can't just invade people's minds like that!" Inhaling a shaky breath, she attempted to calm herself and return to a more respectful tone. "How did you even do it without a wand? I know you are skilled at Legilimency, but you still need a wand, don't you, sir?"

"Sir! Oh, grow up, you wretched little know it all! I'm not sir to anyone now," he growled.

"There would be no pleasing you. If I had omitted the 'sir', you would still have picked fault," Hermione retorted. She looked again at the pale, lank, listless, and repressed man. Some of her anger evaporated. "Why would you do that to me? Invade my mind?" she asked.

"Why would you come into my rooms uninvited and watch me sleep?" he responded.

"I... Well, I needed to know that you were alive," she stammered.

"And I needed to know why I was still alive. Now I know; you're to blame. I shouldn't be here. It should all be over for me. I wanted to die, you silly girl!" spat Snape, laboring to sit up.

Hermione let him struggle; he would want no assistance from her anyway.

"Sorry I ruined it for you," was all she could say.

"Why the hell did you kiss me?" He looked thoroughly disgusted at this point.

"God only knows, you ungrateful bastard. Enjoy wallowing in your pathetic self-loathing. I don't pity you anymore. Ron's right, you are vile!"

"I don't want your pity! Now get out, get out, GET OUT!" He was practically screaming at her.

Abruptly, potion vials and books started spinning towards Hermione, and the glass of the cabinets shattered violently. A book glanced off of Hermione's head and as the light fitting trembled, she saw that it was about to fall.

"Protego!" she shouted, pointing her wand at the ceiling. The chandelier glanced off her shield and crashed to the floor. The shielding charm protected herself and the professor from the flying shards of glass.

Professor Snape's body had started to quake, but objects continued to fly around the room. Still protecting them with her shield, Hermione walked over to his bedside, leaned over and roughly shook Snape with one hand.

"Calm down, just calm down. You're losing control of your magic. You are better than this."

Snape was bolt upright, his face contorted with pain as he hyperventilated from the pent-up rage inside.

"Stop it! Stop it now, and I will go." She stood by the bed and pushed him back until he was lying down. "But hear this, professor. You have people that care about you; don't make them turn their backs on you. Learn from your mistakes. I will see you when you want to see me." She finished with, "I'm not sorry I saved you, I'm just sorry that you are."

"Leave," he bit out.

Hermione took the hint and left.

"I'm ready to go find mum and dad now," she said to Harry when she got back to the common room.

"Did you get a cheery 'thank you' from our snarky old professor?" Harry smirked.

"Not exactly. He may need to redecorate his room and I may have sworn at him," confessed the pale girl.

"Merlin's pants, Hermione, you know where to pick your fights!" exclaimed Harry. "Let's go get your mum and dad then," he added, putting his arm around her shoulder.

* * *

Harry and Hermione returned to the Head's office to await Professor McGonagall's return. Hermione gave the professor a brief summary of her disastrous interaction with Professor Snape, recommending a calming potion and a 'Reparo' charm for the room.

"I'm sorry if I've set his recovery back just to satisfy my curiosity. I'm also sorry I handled his attitude very badly. I've written him a letter. Please, can you give it to him when his mental health seems better able to cope?"

Professor McGonagall sighed. "I think his mental health has always been on a short fuse, but yes, I will keep it until I see fit. I had better go and check on him. All the best with your trip to Australia. Do pop in to see us when you get back. Hogwarts doors are always open to you."

After saying their farewells, Harry and Hermione left for the Ministry of Magic and started their trip to find Hermione's parents and restore their memories.

* * *

In the gloom and silence of the Forbidden Forrest, two figures loomed above the low-lying mist that churned about their ankles. Dirty, disheveled robes hung from their frames and trailed across the damp, mossy overgrowth. The taller figure's emaciated body was drowning in his robes, his hood partially covering his filthy, skeletal face.

He raised his wand to his companion and growled, "It's time."

The man beside him was shorter, slightly thicker, with an array of dark, wild hair peaking out of his hood. He raised his arm, allowing his sleeve to fall back to reveal a seething shape contorting on the sickly flesh below the crook of his elbow. He held his robe in place above the strange tattoo, gripping the material firmly with his right hand.

"Do it then, Rabastan."

Rabastan Lestrange pushed the wand against the Dark Mark and hissed an incantation. Rodolphus winced.

"Don't be pathetic, brother," growled Rabastan. "Now we see, now we wait."

They waited silently, malevolence radiating from every pent-up muscle.

CRACK!

Anyone hearing the sudden, thunderous noise echoing around the forest would surely have been startled, but not these two sinister characters; they merely continued to wait with an eerie patience.

"Lestrange?" rasped a gravelly voice

"We are here, Dolohov," replied Rabastan.

Through the swirling fog, the long, pale face of Antonin Dolohov emerged. Like his two comrades, he was shrouded in black. The dark stubble along his jaw made his rugged features appear almost ghostly by contrast.

CRACK!

Another black-swathed figure approached.

"Lestrange and Lestrange. Dolohov, too. What a pleasure." A hollow laugh echoed through the clearing.

"Likewise, Macnair. It's a shame that it's here in this dump of a forest that we meet, and not at the manor." Rabastan grimaced.

"What was good enough for the Dark Lord once is good enough for me, my friend," Macnair replied.

"Well said, indeed. The Dark Lord would have been pleased with that tribute."

Macnair nodded in acceptance of this truth.

"Why are we not using the manor, my brother?" Rodolphus questioned.

"Do you see our brother-in-law here? Lucius is weak and spineless and we lost the Dark Lord and the war due to his wife's betrayal and we shall be avenged!" Rabastan's face contorted with hatred at the words he uttered.

CRACK!

Yet another menacing figure joined the group. "I'm late. My apologies. I trust I have missed nothing of importance."

"We are just discussing treachery, Rookwood. Fortunately, your appearance has prevented your name from being a topic of conversation," sneered Rabastan. "I have reason to believe that our company is complete. All of our fellow Death Eaters are dead, in Azkaban, or they are traitors."

"With the death of our Dark Lord, do we even have a cause?" Macnair asked.

"We have vengeance, and we have a duty to make sure we have done all we can to try to bring back the Dark Lord. I, for one, am not going to be accused of disloyalty like some of you were on the Dark Lord's first return," answered Rabastan.

"But he is dead?" Dolohov said suddenly.

"Yes, but I have heard that Potter found the fabled Deathly Hallows, the master of whom will have control over death." Rabastan turned to Dolohov. "I suggest we take revenge on the traitors, and then seek a way to unite the Deathstick, the Resurrection Stone, and the Cloak of Invisibility. In doing so, we could have the power to bring Lord Voldemort back."

The other four men cringed at his name.

"We can try, but if the Hallows can bring people back from the dead, why hasn't Potter used it to resurrect his darling, Mudblood mummy?" Dolohov's deep voice displayed his revulsion of all things Muggle.

"Because he doesn't know how and he thinks it's dangerous dark magic," shot back Rabastan.

"It is dangerous dark magic, and in our hands, we could restart and win the war. Are we sure Malfoy is now a traitor? What about our slippery Severus Snape?" asked Rookwood.

"Lucius is a coward and will always support the winning side. I shall see to him personally. Snape was a traitor all along and it's a good thing he's dead. The Dark Lord killed him," explained Rabastan.

"How do we proceed to find these Hallows? I hear Potter and the Mudblood are traveling." McNair scowled.

"We start with his blood traitor friend, the Weasley boy. I want to give his bitch of a mother something else to cry about. She took my Bella and I want her to suffer loss over and over again until loss is all she has. I want to do it slowly, pick them off one by one, like the vermin they are."

The company of dark wizards turned to Rodolphus Lestrange, impressed by the vitriol of his speech.

"Well said, my brother. Ronald Weasley, it is. We need a plan to take him and 'Crucio' the location of the items from him. If his loyalty is more impregnable than I imagine it to be, we will use him as bait. Now, my friends, let us decide how we are going to get hold of the Weasley runt."

The men continued to converse in low, harsh tones for some fifteen minutes, then, one by one, they disapparated.

Bereft of the Death Eaters' presence, the forest became much less ominous, the sun peaked through the thick trees, and little shafts of light punctured the pervasive murk.

The birds began to sing.


	4. A mothers love

Arthur and Molly sat by the fireside in the kitchen of the Burrow. Molly Weasley had been crying again, her eyes swollen and red from her recurring sorrow.

"I'm sorry, Arthur."

Arthur Weasley looked at his distraught wife, who was a mirror of his own pain, and wished he could soothe her.

"Molly, Molly, you have nothing to feel sorry about. You love us, you love our family. Why would you apologise for that?" he consoled.

"I can't let them go. Charlie wants to go back to Romania, and now you say Ron's been offered a job at the Department of Mysteries and he can't even talk about it. Two wizards died because of that job over the last few years," she sobbed.

"But we are not at war now, Molly, and Ron will need a job. This is a good job, too. He will be set up for life." Arthur stroked his wife's hand as he spoke.

"Did he apply for it? Because if he did, why wouldn't he have said?" she wondered aloud.

"He was offered it. Kingsley wants him to fill the vacant post left by Rookwood. Ron has proved his ability to keep a secret many times over, and anyway, the Ministry are falling over themselves to give war heroes jobs," explained Mr. Weasley. "I've been offered a promotion, too," he added in a small voice.

"Please, tell me it's not an Auror," pleaded Molly.

"Oh Molls, I'm not that good. You know I've never had the Midas touch." Arthur smiled. "No, Kingsley has asked me to be Head of Muggle Liaison, dealing directly with the Muggle Prime Minister," he said proudly. "But if you don't want me to take it, I won't."

"Oh Arthur, you're too good to me, but that's your dream job and to be honest, it sounds no more dangerous than the job you have already. Congratulations, dear."

Arthur relaxed, obviously relieved to get this information out of the way.

"Thank you, Molly. I will tell Kingsley I accept. What shall I tell Ron?" he queried quietly.

"Tell him I can't stop him from taking control of his life, but I would rather he spent the rest of his life here at the Burrow!" She reached for her husband and buried her head against his shoulder.

"Ok, Molls. Come on, let's have a little firewhiskey and listen to a little bit of Celestina Warbeck."

"A true demonstration of how much you love me," giggled Molly feebly.

"A little bit being the operative word, Mollywobbles."

The next morning, the large household woke up to the usual good-natured shouts and occasional hex, generally coming from Ginny's direction.

After breakfast, Arthur asked Ron to help him clean the henhouse. They walked across the backyard, occasionally pausing and reaching down to throw a stray garden gnome over the wall.

When they got to their destination, Ron looked around in confusion.

"Err, dad, the henhouse is perfectly clean. Did you forget that you already did it?" Ron asked with concern.

"No, Ron, I didn't. I just needed to talk to you." Then Mr. Weasley proceeded to explain Kingsley's job offer to him.

"An Unspeakable? Really? Me? What would my duties be?" A red flush of excitement peppered Ron's cheeks.

"I don't know, son, and neither will you until you accept the job," admitted Mr. Weasley.

"That's so weird!" exclaimed Ron. "Oh, Merlin's Balls, what did mum say? Does she know?"

"Yes, Ronald, she knows, and she would prefer that you stop referring to that particular part of Merlin's anatomy. But also, she knows it's up to you." He grasped his son's shoulder. "Think about it, Ron." He smiled, stretched, and said, "Well, it's been hard work cleaning those hens out. Let's go get a butter beer."

Ron grinned at him as they walked back to the house.

Some days later, the Minister for Magic, Mr. Kingsley Shacklebolt, received an owl requesting a meeting from a Mr. Ronald Weasley.

* * *

Rodolphus Lestrange's embittered voice echoed through the forest. "Brother, brother? Rabastan? Are you here?"

"Yes, Rodolphus, I've been waiting for you. What news?" he asked.

"The Weasley scum has accepted a job at the Ministry, as you expected. It will now be a matter of waiting for the right moment to approach him, but at least he will be away from the Burrow and the protective wards cast by the Order. You were right in thinking they had not been removed. I can't get near the hovel."

At this, Rabastan replied, "So, now we wait again."

CRACK!

They both disapparated.

* * *

In the Room of Requirement, Severus sat in an armchair by the fire. He was reading a large, leather-bound volume with little interest, flicking through the pages with his long, tapered fingers, the cuff of his sleeve brushing against the leaves. He leaned his head back against the chair and with one frustrated sweep of his hand, propelled the book from his lap to the floor. The book fell at an awkward angle, the cover open, and it began to shriek. Severus viciously kicked at the book, closing it with his foot and immediately stopping the screaming.

"Temper, Severus," said the unwelcome voice of McGonagall as she walked into the room.

"Spare me, Minerva," he snapped.

McGonagall sighed and retorted sarcastically, "You are like a ray of sunlight shining on my darkest day, Severus."

"Can you do me a favour?" asked Snape.

"Yes, of course." Surprise reflected in her voice.

"Leave," he spat.

"For goodness sake, get over yourself. I need to talk to you. No, don't look at me like that. Contrary to your belief, it will not make me wither up and die. I want to talk about the new school year. The governors are inspecting Hogwarts to see if the repairs have been completed sufficiently to reopen, and we need a D.A. professor and an assistant in Divination," McGonagall finished and looked at her charge.

"And this concerns me because?" was Snape's bored response.

"Because you are part of the school, you infuriating man!"

"Not any more. By your own admission, you are advertising my post."

He shifted slightly as he spoke and Minerva immediately leaned over and put her hand to his head.

"Get off, woman! You are not my mother," he hissed and pushed her hand away angrily.

"You're hot, Severus. You've been up too long. And yes, I'm not your mother. Mores the pity. If I was, you'd have better manners. And I am not advertising your job; I want an extra professor. I'm hoping you will take the role of Deputy Head, so you will only have time to teach the more advanced classes. But at the present time, it can hardly have escaped your notice that you still need assistance to get in and out of bed. It will be a few months before you can take any duty on. This is why I thought I would get an apprentice for you, and later, duties can be shared." She began gathering Severus' nightly potions while waiting for him to respond.

"Why would you think I would want to continue teaching?" he asked.

"I expect you don't, but at the moment, what else do you have?" She proffered the potions to Severus, who snatched the bottles from her and drained the contents quickly.

"Rub it in, why don't you."

"What can I do? If I'm nice to you, you spit at me. If I'm blunt with you, you spit at me. What's the difference, Severus?" she asked.

"Fine, do what you want. I accept the post," he said ungratefully.

McGonagall nodded. "I will advertise the posts and you will help me with the interviews. The sight of you should test the mettle of our candidates. Also, we need to let the Ministry know you are alive for their records, so there may be some unwanted press coverage. I'm glad you're being reasonable, Severus." She looked at the dark man sat in his chair, his face drained of colour and his hands massaging his temples.

"Minerva, I'm tired," he admitted, and indeed, he looked positively haggard.

The Headmistress offered him her arm and assisted him up from his seat. Once he was standing, she placed her arm around his waist and felt him stiffen as he always did at the contact. They made slow progress to the bed with Snape resisting help but being forced to submit to it. When he finally settled onto the edge of the bed, McGonagall bent to lift his legs up.

"No," he growled and slowly pulled his legs up with his own hands.

He lay back, panting slightly from the effort. Professor McGonagall watched him, and when his breathing returned to normal, she grabbed his hand.

"You're not the enemy any more; you are one of the heroes. Let people in, Severus. Let us take care of you."

Severus allowed her a moment but did not make any movement to return the gesture. His hand lay inanimate under McGonagall's.

"Close the door behind you, Minerva."

She sighed, squeezed his hand, and said, "You don't fool me, Severus. You protest too much to, my dear."

And then she left, dimming the lights behind her and shutting the door quietly.

A deep, throbbing sob echoed throughout the room.

* * *

With Harry and Hermione away, Ronald Weasley felt like a third of a man. However, he was excited to begin his new employment. Ron had met with Kingsley Shacklebolt and accepted his new role as a trainee Unspeakable. He still had no idea what he wouldn't be speaking about, but time would tell.

He received regular owls from his two best friends, who had managed to locate Mr. and Mrs. Granger. Hermione had successfully restored their memories, although it had been difficult to explain the necessary actions she had taken to protect their lives. According to her letter, her parents had been hurt that she hadn't told them the full truth of what was happening in the wizarding world. They had been upset that Hermione felt it to be morally all right to allow them to live without knowledge of their daughter, denying them the right to choose their safety over their daughter's. Nonetheless, Hermione said they were very pleased to see her and that their relationship was as strong as ever, despite more than a few tears.

Ron was very happy for her and wished they would come home now, but it appeared that they were remaining for a holiday and had assured him they would return home in six weeks.

'Six weeks,' Ron thought. 'Blimey, now I know what Harry felt like at the Dursley's on his own… Well, sort of, without the horrible, childhood-scarring relatives, anyway.'

* * *

On the moors, a bleak house jutted up from the landscape. Small, yet significant, and strategically positioned on a landscape with no other blot to mar it. Inside it was clearly a dark wizard's abode.

Two wizards conversed quietly in the foyer of the house.

"News, Dolohov?" Rodolphus queried.

"Yes, Rookwood has infiltrated the Ministry's owl post. He has now discovered that the Weasley boy will be starting his job at the Department of Mysteries on Monday next. Potter and the Mudblood will be returning in six weeks. Also, you may be interested to learn that our slippery friend Severus Snape is still alive. Snape is currently recovering from a coma in a safe house, most likely Hogwarts."

Rodolphus was startled for a moment. "Well, it seems we can add traitor elimination to our list of goals. If Snivellus is indeed at Hogwarts, he can't hide under McGonagall's petticoats forever. He will pay for his treachery, but in the meantime, we need to perform the traitors' curse or he will be able to Apparate to our meetings anytime we activate the Dark Mark. We can't take the risk of him using his Mark against us. I need to use your arm, Dolohov."

Dolohov obediently stretched out his arm and rolled his sleeve up to his shoulder, revealing the Dark Mark. Rodolphus pushed the point of his rosewood wand into the middle of the Mark, indenting the skin very slightly.

"Incendio, Proditor, Vestigium," chanted Rodolphus.

Dolohov winced as the black shape came to life, the snake squirming in fury on his arm. Once the Mark had stopped its contorting, Dolohov rubbed his forearm; the procedure had not been painless.

"Snivellus will feel that," Rodolphus said, and let out a sadistic, demented laugh. He was always aroused at the thought of torture.

"What did the incantation do, my friend?" Dolohov's interest was heightened by the excitement of his comrade.

"It Cruciates the traitor extensively, then burns the Dark Mark's powers off. I've wanted to hurt that smug bastard for a very long time. He will be limping for a week, I hope. My Bellatrix was the only one who saw through him, but the Dark Lord didn't believe her. Where's my Bella now? Killed by blood traitors, that's where."

He shook his head to get rid of the image of his mental, yet beautiful, wife Bella. Insanity was the bond that they had closely shared.

"Anyway, thank you, Dolohov. I will inform my brother of our conversation. In summary, we have a six week window of opportunity to get to Weasley. Stay alert for our next meeting, the Mark will call. Don't meet here again, it will arouse suspicion; my house is being watched by the Ministry. Apparate carefully or you will be seen."

Dolohov grunted, then turned and disapparated from the charmed doorstep.

* * *

Back at Hogwarts, Professor Snape stirred in his sleep. He could see shadows and shapes in his dreams; hear the low whispering voices of dangerous men and their machinations, evil plots and wicked schemes.

A burning sensation seared into his body. Drenched in sweat and very much awake, he pulled himself to a sitting position, horrified that a nightmare could cause such excruciating physical pain.

Snape's trembling hand took his wand from the bedside table, and he flicked it sharply toward the lights, shielding his eyes as they blazed brightly and erased the darkness from the room. Intense pain shot through his arm. He rolled up his sleeve and saw the Dark Mark writhing on his pale skin. It was the pain of the unanswered call, the pain reserved for traitors.

He staggered out of the bed, unsure of how to proceed, when another wave of agony assailed him. Professor Snape vomited copiously and collapsed onto the floor, convulsing in the vile mess. The still functioning part of his brain knew he needed to just ask for help, pride be damned as this was well beyond bearable.

He screamed at a portrait, "Get McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey!" and promptly passed out, hitting his head on the floor with a sickening jolt.

When he came round, gentle but firm hands were assessing him for injuries.

"Minerva," he started.

"Shush, Severus, not now." She held him immobile as Madam Pomfrey began chanting her cleansing and healing spells.

Severus felt the vomit lift and disappear from his face and hair, while the pain in his arm dulled down. He could feel the charms being used to clean his whole body, removing the sickness that engulfed him, removing every last trace of his bodily malfunctions.

'How often am I to embarrass myself like this?' he thought. The pain and humiliation was so reminiscent of the aftereffects of repeated 'Crucio' sessions with the Dark Lord that he cringed at the memories.

"Minerva," he gasped, trying again to explain while pushing away her attempts to restrain him. With a sudden burst of energy, he grabbed her robes with both hands to get her attention. "It's not over! It begins again!"

Professor McGonagall took a shallow breath and levitated Snape to the bed. "It was a dream, Severus."

But as she pulled the sheets over him, she moved his rigid arm into place and saw the Mark thrash and hiss in the throes of death.

The scream that left her lips reverberated around the room.


	5. A new prophesy

Two weeks later, Professor McGonagall sat at her desk perusing her owl post.

"Good news, Albus," she said, taking her reading glasses off. "The Ministry has approved our application to reopen the school in four weeks. That gives me time to compile our attendee lists and send out the owls with registration letters." She picked up her teacup, took a sip of the warm beverage, and waited expectantly for Dumbledore to respond.

"Excellent news, Minerva! And how is our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor doing?" came the voice from the portrait.

"Surprisingly well. He's moved back to his old rooms as he no longer requires the Room of Requirement, and he does not need my constant assistance any more, thank Merlin. Poppy will be continuing some of the treatment for a while yet, but he can self-medicate now. There have been no more disturbances with the Dark Mark; it has lost its form and is just an inky blotch now. Poppy and I think it was reacting to the death of Voldemort, its final act being to torture poor Severus. It now appears to be a useless scar, a relic of war, if you like, that he will always carry," she intoned sadly.

"Does Severus think that was all it was?" Albus questioned.

"Well no, he doesn't. He thinks the battle is not over. But he's still a bit addled, really. Give him time; he will get used to the freedom from Voldemort."

"Just because you have seen Severus in his weakest moments, Minerva, don't let it change your view of him and never underestimate him. His instincts have rarely been wrong."

"Yes, Albus, I highly respect him, but he has been wrong before and I hope he is wrong this time. To be honest, we have spoken little over the past two days… I know it's awful of me but I've seldom felt so relived. He was a horrible patient; he quite destroyed my good nature," she admitted.

"I imagine he feels the same about you. I understand that he's avoiding you like dragon poo at the moment." Dumbledore laughed.

She smiled. "Yes, it's been a pleasant break. Mind you, we are meeting in a few minutes to interview a candidate for our open Divination post."

"And may I say, Minerva, I think it was very kind of you to house Sybil at Hogwarts in her retirement." Other portraits nodded at this, agreeing with the new Headmistress' decision.

"She's nuttier than squirrel poo, but there has been too little kindness shown to others during the war. It's time to change that," she acknowledged

"You will have your work cut out for you with Severus as your deputy. I'm unaware of kindness ever appearing in his vocabulary." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at her; they were the epitome of mischievous benevolence.

"True, Albus, but time changes many things and environment many more." A sharp, impatient rap was heard at the door. "Come in, Professor Snape!" shouted McGonagall.

The door opened smoothly. The D.A.D.A. professor glided in, his black robe sweeping a trail behind him and his stature straight and sure once more. With a theatrical twist of his wrist, his outstretched wand fired the door closed.

"Really, Severus, do you have to be so dramatic?" McGonagall asked.

"It is a hobby of mine." He grimaced.

"Hello, my boy. Minerva, offer him a lemon drop," Albus directed.

McGonagall and Snape groaned in unison.

"Merlin's beard, you and your sweets. I would tell you to go choke on them, but you're dead already," said Snape, turning to the portrait. Albus chuckled softly.

"It's been a few days since we've spoken, Severus," McGonagall piped up.

"Yes, my apologies, Minerva, but every time I look at you, I get a fierce desire to be lonesome." He clearly enunciated his words in order to intimidate; the professor was back on form.

"Nice sentiments, I'm sure, but please don't apologise; there is no need. I've felt so miserable without you these two days that it was almost like having you with me anyway," she bit back.

Professor Snape's lip curled slightly in amusement and he tilted his head in deference of the veritable touché.

"As much fun as this parley is, Headmistress, I don't know why we are here, but I'm rather sure that it is not in order to enjoy ourselves."

"I'm sorry, Severus. Did my message not say? We are about to interview someone for the Divination post." McGonagall smiled slyly.

"No, you didn't say. You marked the message urgent, as well you know. I wouldn't have come here for this," he grumbled.

"Exactly, Severus, so suck it up and do your job." As she finished speaking the fire flared up and glowed green.

All eyes, portraits' and living, looked to the fireplace. An ethereal young woman stepped out with a dreamy expression on her face, long white-blond hair swishing around her waist. Her unblinking stare took stock of her surroundings, and she then stretched out her hand to shake McGonagall's.

Turning to Snape, she said, "Professor Snape, I knew you were alive."

"Indeed." He looked at McGonagall with an eyebrow raised incredulously.

McGonagall quickly sat Miss Luna Lovegood down before her colleague could be too scathing. "Would you like some tea, dear?"

"Do you have infusion of gurdy roots?" Luna asked, appearing oblivious to the scoff that came from Snape.

"No, I'm afraid not," McGonagall responded quickly.

"Never mind, I think it's an acquired taste. Well, Harry Potter says it tastes like thestral wee, although how he would know I'm-"

"Let's talk about potential employment," interrupted McGonagall hurriedly. She went through a list of requirements and questions, which surprisingly, the Ravenclaw handled very well. At the end of the interview, Luna was asked to wait outside while they discussed her application.

"Well then, what do you think?" McGonagall addressed the room, avoiding Snape's eyes.

"I like her," stated Albus immediately.

"You would; she exudes the same distinct aura of dottiness as you do. Are there other applicants?" Snape asked.

"Rita Skeeter lost her job. She has expressed interest in any Hogwarts' opening," she replied, coughing slightly.

Snape's eyebrows rose. "That information has just improved Miss Lovegood's prospects to no end."

"She is really too young at seventeen, but with all she's done and seen, she is still too old to sit her N.E.W.T.s with her peers. This way, she can finish her schooling and assist Professor Firenze with minor duties. On the job training. It has been a while since we have taken on apprentices. In fact, Severus, I think you were the last and you're not exactly in your first bloom. If we are not careful, we could end up with a rash of retirements and no replacements. I can only see this as being a good thing," she finished.

"It is a stupid job and she is a stupid girl. Seems perfect… Hire her!"

McGonagall glared at him and flounced over to the door, pulling it open and calling out, "Come in, dear."

Luna was very pleased to have the role. McGonagall filled her in with dates, times, and logistics of the job and they talked pleasantly for several minutes, while Snape sat mutely in the background.

Abruptly, Luna rose up from her seat and her hair stood on end. She was lifted slightly off of the floor and her staring eyes appeared lifeless and cold, giving her an angelic yet unsettling quality. A voice sprang from the girl's mouth that was no longer vague and quiet, but powerfully resonate and slightly cruel.

"From death you can be hidden with power beyond all recognition.

From the veil cast from the object that conceals,

The possessor can repel death's powerful seal.

A stone found underground,

The fox does protect safe and sound.

The spy will be tempted by a flower,

His life giver can redeem him with love's power.

Darkness follows to steal possession from he who was chosen.

Who will attain? Until we know, our future is frozen..."

Luna convulsed minutely and landed on her feet. Her eyes smiling, she reached out and grasped McGonagall's limp hand in her own again. "I can't wait for the start of term. Thank you so much! I must be going; I'm cooking plimpies for my father's dinner. Well, goodbye professors."

She stepped out of the office and into the fireplace, flooing away in blissful ignorance of the horror and shock left behind.

"Severus, you need to inform the Department of Mysteries that we have a prophecy in our possession," Dumbledore said softly, breaking the silence. Worry was etched into his painted self.

Professor Snape left the room without a word. Once out of range of the Head's office, he leaned back on the wall and slowly slipped down the cool bricks until he was sat against it. He placed his head in his hands and swore loudly in frustration.

They were back to the beginning.

* * *

Harry and Hermione were drinking coffee in a muggle bar overlooking Sydney Harbour.

"It's been really nice, Harry. Thank you so much for being here. It made things a lot easier to explain to mum and dad with you helping." Hermione smiled at him over her coffee mug.

"I've enjoyed it, to be honest. To be sat here now in the sun is amazing, I feel like we spent our childhoods in the dark. I'm glad everything's ok with Mr. and Mrs. Granger. I have to say, I'm surprised at how interested your mum was in the whole wizarding war," Harry replied.

"She was furious, wasn't she, at first? I've never seen her that cross. I felt terrible but she seemed happier when we told her everything that happened over the last two years. I think she could see we left nothing out. She can trust us now when we say it's over and that we are not hiding anything." Hermione put her finished drink down.

"I was amazed how much she understood. She was certainly fascinated by the Hallows…" Harry remarked.

"Dad was a bit bemused, though, was he not? I think he went out to make tea when we talked about the Hallows. All a bit much for him, really. Like a fairy story, he said." She grimaced.

"Like a nightmare!" Harry added.

"Yes, a nightmare. Do you have them, Harry?"

"Do you really expect me to say no?"

"I don't, actually. I have them, and you've seen and been through more than I have, so I'm sure you do."

"Then why ask?" was the clipped reply.

"Don't be like that, Harry. I just wondered if you wanted to talk about it," Hermione explained quickly.

"We talk about it all the time. Telling your mum the whole story was cathartic, but when I sleep, the nightmares hit me. Things we've seen, things we've done, but mainly I see the faces of the people we lost. At the moment, no amount of talking is going to sort that out," Harry stated firmly and then changed the subject. "I've had a letter from Ron." He handed the parchment to her.

Hermione took it and began to read. Ron had written to say how pleased he was that her parents had been reunited with her, and told them he now had a job at the Department of Mysteries. Ron also wrote how his mum and family were having ups and downs, but that they found things to be a little easier every day. Although he had not asked them to come home, they could see between the lines that he missed them.

"I feel guilty, Hermione. I've had a nice time but I think I should go home to Ron. It's not fun being on your own, and I don't think Ginny's too pleased with me either. She didn't return my last owl when I said I was staying longer. Would you mind if we left early?" he asked

"To be honest, I think we should go back, too. Mum and Dad are keen to get their old life up and running again and they want to reopen the dental surgery. I'm going to help them get their patients back. So, shall I ask them if we can prepare to come home?" Hermione pushed her cup to one side as she waited for his response.

"Thank you, Hermione. Let's surprise Ron."

Three days later, the Grangers were settling into their former home. As they prepared to visit the Weasleys, Harry sat on Hermione's bed, watching her magically unpack everything.

"Hermione, before we go, can I ask you something?" Harry questioned hesitantly.

"Of course, Harry. What is it?" she responded without looking up from her case.

"You and Ron. Last year, I thought you and Ron might… you know... get together? But now, although you're close, you don't seem to be doing anything about it. So, I just wanted… I don't know. Sorry, it's none of my business." Harry broke off.

Hermione had turned to look at him halfway through his speech with a pained expression. "It's ok. I don't know, Harry, that's the simple answer. I thought that's what I wanted, but now I worry that it was the heat of war and our dependence on each other. I love you, Harry." Harry coughed nervously and she laughed. "Not like that, silly! But I do love you and I couldn't bear losing your friendship."

"Well, you won't lose it, will you?" Harry rubbed his nose in embarrassment.

"I hope not. Now, if Ron and I dated and we split up, would I lose your friendship?" she asked, sitting down next to him on the bed.

"No," he said adamantly.

"It would be difficult to be friends with us both if we couldn't stand to be around each other. You've been there before when we fell out as friends." She looked at Harry to see if her words were sinking in. "It was hell, wasn't it?" she added

"It wasn't a picnic," he admitted

"Ok, so that's one problem. The next one is I love Ron too and I need his friendship. I don't think dating would preserve that. Too many what ifs, Harry."

"I think you might want to tell Ron this?"

"I think he knows," Hermione said quietly, and with that they stood up and disapparated to the Burrow.

Squeals and shouts met their ears as Mrs. Weasley let them into the much lived-in kitchen at the Burrow. A furious yet excited Ginny bowled Harry over trying to thump him and hug him at the same time, but he was very pleased that she wasn't trying to hex him, at any rate. After she planted a full on kiss to his lips, he nervously pushed her off and glanced at Mrs. Weasley's to check her reaction at seeing her only daughter embrace him in such a manner.

Mrs. Weasley just smiled. "Harry, always good to see you. Can you and Hermione stay for dinner?"

"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Weasley. It's always good to be at the Burrow, too. Where's Ron?" he asked, relieved that she seemed unconcerned by Ginny's rather physical welcome.

The Weasley matriarch motioned to her clock, where Ron's hand pointed to work. "He will be home soon." And sure enough, as she finished speaking, the hand swung to traveling and then Ron popped out of the glowing fire.

"Harry!" he yelled when he caught sight of his friends. "Hermione! Oh wow, I thought you would be gone for another four weeks!" He grabbed them both in one-armed hugs and then dragged them upstairs to talk, shouting at Ginny to follow.

"Dinner is in half an hour!" Mrs. Weasley called up the stairs after them.

"Thank you!" they all chorused as they ran to Ron's room.

"Tell us about your new job, Ron," Harry demanded.

"He can't, Harry, so don't ask him. He's an Unspeakable," Hermione said in her best know-it-all voice.

Harry laughed. "Oh yeah, I forgot. Weird."

Ron began to tell them how he had been, and they talked about Australia and the careers and lives they were planning to build.

* * *

In the Forbidden Forest, a voice hissed, "According to my sources, the Ministry have taken possession of a new prophecy, delivered by Snape himself. After retrieving this information, I went to stake out the Burrow. While I was watching and waiting for my opportunity with the Weasley scum, hoping to learn more about the Hallows and the new prophecy, they came home early. Potter and the Mudblood apparated to the front door! They are so well protected, and as a trio, almost untouchable. This will change our plans."

"Thank you, Rookwood. This is a blow, indeed." Rabastan thoughtfully played with his wand. "Macnair, kill the muggle parents," he growled. "No, wait, kill one of them and capture the other for trade. Take Dolohov with you. Go now while they are unprotected and unaware of any danger. The Mudblood will tell us anything once we have the right bait. Go now," he commanded.

Macnair and Dolohov apparated to the Grangers' suburban home.

"Darling, there's someone at the door!" shouted Mrs. Granger.

"Ok, just going," answered Mr. Granger as he went to the door and opened it.

Before he could see or react to anything, a shot of red light hit him in the face, and "Stupefy" was the last word he heard. The sky went dark, the birds stopped singing, and Dolohov disapparated with Mr. Granger's body.

Macnair swept into their home.

"Who was it, darling?" she called. Macnair stormed through the house, smashing everything in his path. Upstairs, a woman screamed as he burst into the room, all wild eyes and yellow teeth. In two strides he had Mrs. Granger by the hair.

The Death Eater pressed his face up against hers as she flailed and shrieked, whispering "It's only me." He bit her ear viciously and she wailed hysterically. "Silencio," he growled and her mouth remained open but no longer made any noise. "I would love to play with you, vixen, but I don't like getting muggle filth on me."

He pushed her to the floor, enjoying the feeling of power over a weak creature. He always enjoyed the luxury of time before killing; it didn't happen often as most deaths were performed too quickly. The Dark wizard grabbed her neck with one hand and held her down with his knee.

"Avada Kedavra," he hissed.

A flash of green light and it was over. Laughter echoed throughout the empty house even after he had gone.


	6. Firewhiskey and Hormones

Ron was a happy man that night; His two best friends had cut short a pleasure trip to keep him company, it made him feel very valued. Harry and Hermione both stayed over, as Arthur Weasley had just taken delivery of, a large consignment of triple aged fire whiskey, needless to say everyone got a little bit jolly. Hermione decided apparition was a bad idea, seeing as she couldn't walk in a straight line. She asked Mrs Weasley if she could borrow Errol the owl to inform her parents.

This done, they all stood in the darkened Garden watching the owl leave, while Mrs Weasley made up the spare bed and Mr Weasley took the rest of the fire whiskey down to the cellar.

Harry looked sadly at Hermione and said, "I wish I had someone at Grimmauld place waiting for a note to inform them where I am. Nobody will give a crap. I really don't think I can live there alone." He put his hand up to his face and turned round quickly as he let out a shuddering sob. "I'm sorry… Pathetic." he stuttered between his gasping sobs.

Ginny's hand went out and slipped around his waist.

"It's ok mate, let it out, you're not a pansy your just a bit wasted, it's the fire whisky can make you a bit emotional if you drink too much. Your gunna have a hangover in the morning pal." Ron patted him on the shoulder and they all stood awkwardly waiting for Harry to stop crying.

Harry turned towards Ginny who still had her arm around his waist and hid his head in her shoulder she ruffled his hair and kissed the top of his head sweetly.

Hermione coughed and said "Ron and I are going for a walk, if I can" she added "going to walk a bit of the alcohol off." She dragged Ron away and they stumbled off into the night.

"What the hell Hermione? My best mate needs me." Ron said as she dragged him along.

"No he doesn't Ronald, he needs his girlfriend" Hermione hissed.

"Bleedin hell Mione, that's my little sister! And you've just dragged her chaperone away while my best mate is plastered. He might take advantage of her." He sniffed in annoyance.

"No offence Ron but Harrys never made the first move in his life, Ginny's far more likely to press her advantage."

"Merlin, your right I need to rescue Harry! She will have her hands all over him poor sod" Ron went to turn back.

Hermione laughed realising that Ron was a little more touched than he had let on. "Just because he doesn't make the first move does not mean he won't enjoy and reciprocate." She smiled at the disgust on his face.

"Thanks Hermione I feel a lot better knowing my sisters a scheming tart and my best friends probably got his hand up her top. Brill nice work" he sighed rubbing his temples.

Laughing Hermione linked arms with him. "We will go back in five they can't get up too much"

"I think you'll find five minutes is plenty "Ron scoffed refusing to let the matter drop.

"What a depressing reflection on yourself" Hermione smirked.

"Oh shut the hell up" Ron Laughed despite himself.

"She's Eighteen now Ron and unbelievably Harrys nineteen and you and I are in our 20's"

"I know how old we are Hermione, to be honest she could be fifty and I would still feel like this" Ron sighed.

"That's sweet Ronald; now tell me are you happy at this new job?" She swiftly changed the topic.

Ronald told her how he wasn't sure about the job he hated not being able to talk about his role and hinted that some surprising things had already happened.

"Guess who else they took on as a trainee?...you'll never guess its Cho Chang!"

"Wow, how is she? Still miserable?" Hermione said a little spitefully.

"Well a bit, but she's loads better than she was, actually we are working on a project together and it's been nice, she's sweet." He said glancing at Hermione.

"Sweet! Hermione exclaimed.

Ron took a deep breath "let's get this over with while I still have fire whisky coursing through my veins. I love you, but we are not going to happen, are we?"

Hermione shook her head gently "I love you though" she said quietly. Ron bravely grabbed her face and kissed her on the lips.

Pulling away slightly still holding her face he said "but in a depressingly a sexual way wouldn't you say" he laughed at her stricken face.

"It's ok; I need you to be my friend for life not my girlfriend for 5 minutes."

They hugged each other and silently enjoyed the new understanding they had.

"So are you going to ask Cho out?" Hermione broke the silence

"Shut up" said Ron again releasing Hermione and looking at his watch.

"Merlin's beard we've been fifteen minutes, Ginny's probably pregnant by now!" Ron bolted back toward the garden.

As it was, Harry had gone back inside with Ginny. He was sat with her on the sofa, his face a little red from embarrassment and tears but looking a little happier. Ginny still held his hand and pulled him up when Ron and Hermione came in. "shall we turn in its very late?" Ginny said.

"I suppose so" Ron said looking at them suspiciously. Mrs Weasley shouted down from upstairs the beds are ready come up when you want Hermione your with Ginny. Good night dears" the sound of a door closing could be heard.

"Come on then" said Hermione as she turned to mount the stairs.

They all trailed up behind her, whispered their good nights and turned in for the night. Dreading the predictable hangovers but happy to be amongst such good friends.

Hermione's sleep was disturbed that night she tossed and turned. She heard her mother screaming she saw the green light of a killing curse. Her dream settled into the more familiar territory of clutching her professor's body and watching him nearly die again. She saw that nauseating kiss again and listened as professor Snape screamed at her shouting, let me die. "You just need help professor" she said aloud in her sleep, startling Ginny who was still enjoying the memory of harry kissing her in the garden. "You ok Hermione" Ginny whispered

Hermione didn't hear. "Just ask" she said shifting uneasily in her sheets "just ask for help professor Snape" she said again falling silent. A light film of sweat covered her face the indication of a stressful dream. Ginny looked her over carefully "weird "she muttered, and went back to sleep resolving to ask Hermione in the morning why on earth she was dreaming about boot faced professors.

* * *

The sun was shining over the Burrow, the birds were singing, and there was a general feeling of wellbeing in nature, but within the Weasley household a general air of regret and penitence pervaded the rooms.

"I am never drinking again, I'm never speaking to your dad again, and I'm never going to stop cringing about my emotional outburst… but I'm definitely going to be sick." Harry bolted to the bathroom.

Ron winced and rubbed his head as he sat up. He didn't feel as bad as he could have, a bit iffy, but it wasn't a full-blown hangover like Harry's.

Harry returned, pale but on the mend. "Now I know why it's called firewhiskey; it burns like hell on the way back up. I thought I was spewing flames like a Norwegian Ridgeback. Feel better for getting it out."

"Spare me the details, lightweight. How drunk was my sister? Because if she has a hangover like yours, Mum will kill her." Ron began getting changed for breakfast.

"She didn't drink much; just what your dad gave her," said Harry as he too started to get dressed, pausing every few seconds to gulp in some air.

"I thought she must have been completely foxed. Why else would she have been snogging you all night?" Ron teased.

"Get stuffed. That's my charm and innate lovability she reacts to. You wouldn't recognise it because you don't have it," scoffed Harry.

Ron just laughed but briefly worried about how his friend would like his fascination with a certain girl at the Department of Mysteries.

Fully dressed, they moved to the door to go downstairs and Harry gulped again.

"Don't you dare puke on my carpet!" Ron pushed him out of the room quickly.

Arriving downstairs, it was clear that Harry was suffering the most, although Mr. Weasley looked none too happy.

"Good morning, all of you," breezed Mrs. Weasley. She flicked her wand and the breakfast levitated from the cooker to the table. Ignoring her husband's groan, she shooed him from the armchair to his dining chair. She went out of the room and came back with a blue potion bottle.

"Sirius and Severus used to frequently overindulge in this house. Sirius, out of boredom, and Severus Snape, the poor man, used firewhisky to dull the pain of whatever torture he'd been through under the Order's service. Fortunately, they were never in their cups at the same time as I fear if they had been, we would have lost the war. Anyway, I tell you this because I invested in this hangover cure since their hangovers had to be seen to be believed. I have some left, so a spoonful each. Let's not make a habit of this, is that understood?" She placed the potion on the table.

Her little speech caused different reactions from them all. Harry winced as always at the mention of his godfather's name. Hermione shuddered at the thought of Snape's torture.

Ron scowled at his mother. "Well, I like that, but it was Dad who started it. Give him the lecture."

Mr. Weasley flinched and grabbed the potion. "I've had the lecture, Ronald. Don't be rude to your mother."

After everyone took the potion, they began to feel much better and managed to eat their breakfast.

They spent the rest of the afternoon chatting and making plans. Mrs. Weasley had invited Harry to remain at the Burrow for as long as he wanted, assuring him that he was like a son. Harry was grateful and very pleased at this, although he and Ron decided to split their time between the Burrow and Grimmauld Place as housemates.

They discussed their options for the future. Would they return to school for the study program being offered a few days a week in their chosen areas, leaving the rest of the week free for part-time work or apprenticeships? Ron didn't see the point in that as he already had a good Ministry job. Hermione, of course, saw the benefits and hoped to learn more about potions and healing. Harry had no idea. He liked the idea of working with dragons like Charlie did and he still thought about being an Auror, but he really had the desire for a quiet life. He wondered what it would be like to return to Hogwarts now that Voldemort was gone. It was only two days a week for six months, and he would see Ginny on a regular basis. That little thought made his mind up for him.

"Hermione, if you return, so will I. After our six months, Ron could get some leave and we could backpack for a few weeks to celebrate."

"I will see if there are any jobs going at the Ministry, if you like. I wish we could all work in the Department of Mysteries, then I could talk about it to you."

Harry immediately had the desire to know what Ron did, but he masterfully repressed the urge to question him.

Hermione excused herself. She needed to pop home and talk various options over with her family. She made her goodbyes and apparated home.

Letting herself in, she shouted, "Hi Mum, Dad! I'm back!"

"Upstairs, darling!" was the answering yell from Mrs. Granger.

Hermione bounced upstairs to her. Her mother seemed to be in the process of mending a picture frame. "Did you knock it over, Mum?"

"Yes, I seem to have knocked a few things over today. How very clumsy I've been." She sighed.

"Reparo," Hermione uttered as she pointed her wand at the frame.

"Fantastic! I always forget you can do that," her mother exclaimed, examining the now flawlessly repaired decoration.

Her concern growing, Hermione took in how tired and drawn she looked. "Are you ok, Mum? Where's Dad? Is he out?"

"I need to talk to you, Hermione. Your father has been called away. It was very last minute and he didn't want to miss the opportunity. He has gone to meet someone in London about a job in Africa setting up dental care for charity boards. It's very exciting, but it does mean we will be abroad on and off. Of course, with your magic you should be able to visit easily. Does that bother you, my darling? "

"Not at all! How exciting for you! It may work well for me too, as I have been asked to return to Hogwarts to take my N.E.W.T.s part-time. So, I can visit on the holidays and sometimes the weekends if you let me know where you are." Hermione glanced at her mother's face and saw something she couldn't quite explain, a shadow of something indistinct.

"That sounds perfect! Your father will be so pleased. What about the rest of the time during the week? I'm not sure I want you living here alone."

"How would you feel about me lodging with Harry and Ron at Grimmauld Place?" asked Hermione

"Well, you spent a year living in a tent with them, and you're not dating them, so I think I feel fine about it. I'm going to have to meet your father later today, and I shall be away for a few days, too. Will you be able to make a start on your arrangements?"

"I'm a big girl now, so I'm sure I will be fine."

"I have something for you, Hermione, but first you must promise to never give it away or lose it."

Her mother produced a silver chain with a pearl hanging from the middle. The colours bright in the iridescent gleam, this pearl looked like it could breathe.

Hermione gasped. "It's beautiful! I would treasure it."

"It needs to be worn all the time, otherwise its colours dim. It's an ancient heirloom from Japan; we had a Japanese decedent many years ago. There is a talisman attached to it that protects and brings help if it is needed. How true is this? I don't know, but it brought me your father. He saw it around my neck when we met at a dance and asked me if it was a real pearl. He said it was beautiful, just like me, and I fell for that cheesy line, bless him. I also have this for you." Her mother reached into a box by her bed and pulled out a miniature fox statue with nine tails. "Another Japanese trinket, just for you to keep."

Hermione hugged her. "Thank you, I love it."

After sending a message to Harry about the new plans, Hermione spent the rest of the day packing things up. Her mother packed a few things too, and they had a bite to eat together.

Hermione got ready to apparate to Grimmauld Place. They agreed to meet again in a week, with her father, so that she would know where they would be posted in Africa.

"See you soon, darling," Mrs. Granger said with a small quiver to her voice.

"Goodbye, Mum." Hermione smiled at her and disapparated.

A few minutes later, a tall, slender woman, with cold blue eyes and blond hair, walked out of the Grangers' home, her long cloak sweeping across the lawn. She looked back at the house with a haughty stare, and then Narcissa Malfoy turned on her heel and disappeared.


	7. To seduce a Death Eater

Narcissa Apperated. She sensed the wards around the little house on the moor, as her feet touched the step, the wards went off to warn the occupants of her arrival; she raised her wand and cast a Shield charm over herself. The door opened a stunning spell was immediately deflected from her Shield.

"Good evening Rodulphus may I come in?" She said calmly without lowering her defences

"You're a traitor cissy, Rabastan wants you dead" he growled not lowering his wand but stepping aside so she could enter the house.

Narcissa Swept past him into the house.

"Do you want me dead Rodulphus? Bella loved me; she wouldn't want you to kill me."

"Bella loved the dark lord, you betrayed him" he responded glaring at her darkly.

"For my son, for Draco, you never had a son you don't understand. If Bella had given you a son you would have wanted to save him too." Her voice quivered a little as she spoke. " My darling sister Bellatrix, you have no idea how I mourn. You must miss her so much too." she continued, a tear falling from her eye.

"We sacrificed much for the dark lord, you sacrificed nothing" he spat.

Narcissa reached up to Rodolphus with her elegant hand, and gently ran her hand down his cheek. Her beautiful glasslike nails began tracing his stubbled beard down to his throat.

He recoiled slightly. Narcissa whispered "she would have been proud of you still fighting, I want to make her proud too Rodolphus . I need to make up for my weakness. Lucius has completely deflected just as Bella always said he would. She always hated him, I see why now. He dragged me down he infused me with his own cowardice. I envy my sister in her loves. She was true to the dark lord; she was true to you Rodolphus. Such love, such devotion. Now she's gone no one is devoted to me. Help me Rodulphus help me make up for my mistake, Help me make my husband pay for his continued mistakes. "She once again stepped closer to him and lifted her beautiful icy eyes to his, taking in his once beautiful face, rugged and frayed but still holding onto a raw masculinity. His eyes locked on hers and saw Bella's countenance reflected in them. A misty haze seemed to descend, drowning his mind. She once again trailed her finger across his chin.

"So dark where Lucius is so fair, why do I envy the dead?" She breathed into his ear.

He unconsciously leaned toward her touch and as her fingers ghosted over his lips, his tongue flicked out and tasted them.

He closed his eyes "Bella" he said.

"yes Bella, she wants you to help me, I've heard of the hallows I can get them we can bring back Bella. Rabastan will only bring back the dark lord, he was always jealous of the position Bellatrix held with the dark lord. Rabastan craves the attention. Bella and I crave only you. Prove to him that I am loyal to you I can help you. Believe me when I tell you only I know how the Hallows work, I can bring her back to us."

The mist seemed to settle further in his mind as he franticly grabbed at Narcissa, dragged his hands through her hair. She was still and emotionless as she allowed him to grope and pull at her. Uselessly grabbing her cloak he dropped to his knees, he pushed his face against her skirts his arms around the top of her legs, the cloth muffling his groans. He franticly moved his face from side to side drying the tears of insanity that were falling over his once handsome face, soaking them into her crushed velvet robes.

"Bella" he moaned again. He let go, stood up and pushed her from him, turning away.

"Will you help me my brother?" She asked clearly, following him to the sitting room of the dark little house.

"I will talk to Rabastan, you may be of service." he sat down on a shabby leather arm chair " at least to me" he added turning to look at the picture of Bella on his mantle peace. He didn't see the shudder of distaste or the fox like glint in her eye. He just felt the closest thing to Bella sit on the arm of his chair, and felt her hands stroke his hair.

"Call him" she crooned in his ear. He took out his wand and pushed it into the dark mark. Within seconds four wands trained on Narsissa and four men closed in on her menacingly. She stood up, straight, proud haughty and beautiful. She commanded respect, very like Bellatrix, without the demented streak. "Gentlemen let me speak I have a right to defence, I want to speak to Rabastan alone." She announced clearly, unfazed by the hostility and murderous gazes of Four mass murderers. Rabastan reluctantly pointed her to a parlour of sorts small and unkempt like the rest of the house. He walked behind his wand trained on her. The door closed and the remaining death eaters could hear the undertone of hurried voices carrying through the walls but they were unable to distinguish any words as the walls were admiring a faint buzzing sound. Half an hour later the door opened and all wands rose again.

"put them down" growled Rabastan. "It seems our Mrs Malfoy has much to offer, I understand you think so to Rodulphus?" Rodulphus shuffled slightly away.

"I have invaded her mind and her words are truth but she will have to bring the dark lord back before she can revive any true allegiance from us." he continued.

"She's a traitor" spat Rockwood "her husband is licking backsides all over the ministry to get into favour. Draco, the little ferret has even been given a job at the ministry. How can they be so stupid as to fall for the Malfoy's over and over again it's beyond me? I am not so stupid Mrs Malfoy." He looked her over with distaste.

"You are forgetting that I am not a Malfoy, I'm of the Noble house of Black, a family that was highly prized in the dark lord's eyes." she was cool in the return of his appraisal. "My family's positions within the ministry place me well at the centre of the knowledge you require. The Mudblood I hear has had bereavement if I can rescue her father, I will attain the complete trust of the ministry. That's what your missing at the moment isn't it?"

Rockwood fell silent.

"is that it? is that all you have? The Black family are riddled with blood traitors and cowards, what happened to Regulus and Sirius? Highly prized in the Dark lords eyes, Utter rot, You need more than that Rabastan, or is the word of a most noble black good enough for you? Dolohov sneered at Rabastan.

"No not at all, Narcissa had given me the whereabouts of the death stick."

Dolohov appraised Narcissa, scornfully sweeping his disdainful eyes over her, while shaking his head in disbelief. The witch looked away from him unconcerned by Dolohov's displeasure.

"Where's the muggle?" asked Narcissa.

"We kept him stupefied, seemed easier." Macnair nodded towards the cellar steps as Narcissa moved past him towards the cellar, he saw her unconsciously touch her ear lobe.

The words Levicorpus rose from the cellar then the body of Mr Granger floated up the stairs. With Narcissa in pursuit.

" I will put the plan into action now Rabastan." she walked over to Rodulphus , still floating the inert body in front of her. She grabbed his face and Then hissed In his ear, " for Bella darling" She brushed her lips against his and bit his bottom lip hard. Squirming he licked the blood slowly off his bottom lip.

"If Lucius could see you now, his fine wife prostituting for favours, it's almost funny watching you with Bella's left overs. The ministry are watching this house disillusion yourself and the muggle, before you dissaperate. Now get out you harlot."

With a crack Narcissa and the muggle had gone.

"We mustn't keep meeting here we will be drawing too much attention. McNair, can you find us a suitable place to meet next week?" Rabastan brought the meeting to a close.

At the granger house, soft and gentle hands cleaned Mr Granger of all signs of disturbance. A wand past over him "obliviate" a rush of air and then "enervate" Mr Granger stirred in his armchair. "Irina? Oh I must have dropped off" he said.

"You did dear, just as you were talking about the volunteer dentistry project you're interested in. I've mentioned it to Hermione she thinks we should go." she said.

"Go where?" Mr Granger asked

"Africa darling, honestly your memory" she chided.

"Yes, Yes " he said I remember although he still looked vague and vacant.

"I will make some tea" she said kissing her husband sweetly.

* * *

Severus Snape flooed to the Ministry to deliver the prophecy, hoping he would only have to see the Minister for Magic. This was his first venture out into public since killing Albus Dumbledore, and it was not a comfortable course of action. Yet, the few wizards he met showed him deference and respect. This surprised him, and although most were clearly not ecstatic about his presence, they were not angry or accusing.

Snape realised Potter must have shared his memories. He cringed to his very bones and hoped that the foolish boy had the decency to keep some of his more intimate memories private.

It was all very awkward and made even more so when Kingsley said he needed to take the prophecy personally to the Department of Mysteries. Snape sighed, knowing it was too much to hope that Mr. Weasley was having a day off.

Kingsley took him to a corridor with glinting black tiles and angular shapes that he recognised from the forays he made into Potter's mind during the Occlumency lessons.

"I am unable to go in with you, Professor. Only those mentioned in a prophecy are supposed to deposit it," the Minister informed him.

"The prophecy isn't about me," Snape said sharply.

"To be honest, this department is very esoteric and I don't understand it at all. I do know that the department has been informed differently and the understanding is that you are part of the prophecy. Even so, you were present when it was made and that gives you admittance anyway," Kingsley explained.

"If it is so dammed complicated, why the hell did you give the Weasley boy a job? The menace never completed a single essay without Granger correcting it."

"Because he can keep secrets. You, of all people, should understand that," his response was firm but polite.

A few minutes later, the door Arthur Weasley nearly died outside opened.

"Hello, Professor Snape," said a pretty girl with raven hair and delicate oriental features.

Snape was surprised to see Cho Chang. She was one of the few former students who didn't totally infuriate him, and he personally felt that she had gotten a raw deal during the war.

"Miss Chang, obviously your pragmatic approach to work has quickly found you employment. It still leaves me wondering how Mr. Weasley wormed his way in."

Cho smiled at him. "Come in, Professor."

Kingsley had turned and left at this point. Ron Weasley approached from another side door and started slightly when he saw Snape.

"You look better than when I last saw you," he spoke without thinking.

"Careful, Weasley," Snape snarled slightly.

"I meant no offence. Can Cho and I take the prophecy now? We need you to entrust it to us. Please hold out your wand over the bottle and say the incantation 'Dissimulo' followed by the words 'Tego Texi Tectum'." Ron was very uncomfortable telling his old professor to do anything, and Snape seemed vaguely annoyed by it too, but he acquiesced and completed the formalities.

"How sure are you that the prophecy relates to me?" Snape asked.

Cho took the beautiful amber orb from his hand. "Lumos," she intoned as she pointed it at the bottle McGonagall had used to charm the memory into. The container glinted and shimmered in the light.

Ron approached nervously, held his wand aloft, and said, "Denobis Fabula Narrator."

A label was conjured from Ron's wand. Cho caught it and placed it on the bottle. Magically, the scrap of parchment adhered itself to the glass and small script writing started to emerge on it.

Cho passed it back to Snape silently. Gesturing with her wand, she pointed him to the words that had appeared.

L.L. to M.M. and S.S.

Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Lily Potter, Hermione Granger, and ?

Snape finished reading, and then swore repeatedly under his breath.

Ron took the prophecy back before it could be dropped. "Professor, I'm a bit freaked out. Does this mean it's not over?"

"I hope not, Mr. Weasley. Am I correct in understanding that only those who are listed on the label can now retrieve this?" he questioned.

"Yes, Professor. Unspeakables can see and hear it too because you entrusted us with its secrets to be hidden," chimed Cho.

"And you are definitely not only a witness of the prophecy, but also part of it. The incantation I used for the label reveals whom the prediction is about," finished Ron.

"Yes, thank you, Weasley. I've been speaking Latin since before you were born. I don't require a lesson."

"My apologies, Snape," Ron snapped back.

"Professor Snape, you cheeky runt," was the response.

"Not to me. You're not my professor anymore. I am happy to respect your professional title if you respect mine. Can you do that, you greasy git? How many House points do I lose for that, sir?"

To Ron's surprise, Snape smiled.

"My regards to your mother and father, Mr. Weasley. Miss Chang, could you see me out please?"

Snape spun on his heel and started to leave, but Ron stopped him.

"I'm glad you're alive, I really am. You have no idea how worried Hermione's been about you. I don't understand it but I'm glad."

Snape made a small sound of annoyance and said, "I think that's quite enough conversation, don't you?"

He turned once more and almost flew down the corridor with Cho trotting after him.

In his dungeon quarters, Severus Snape was reading once more.

His health was improving to the point where he actually woke up without immediately wanting to die. Control and poise had returned to his magic, for which everyone in the castle felt relived about. He knew the old proverb, 'whatever doesn't kill us only makes us stronger', and never believed it. Injury caused weakness, not strength. However, magically speaking, he did feel stronger than ever before. He idly wondered if this was due to the Dark Mark that had died on his arm, as it may have taken a substantial amount of magic to sustain. But despite all this, he felt desperate and ill at the thought of fighting another war.

The professor closed his book; he could not concentrate. He had been trying to research prophecies, trying to make sense of Lovegood's nonsense.

'It must be wrong… It has to be. How can Lily be involved when she is dead?' he thought.

He reached out for his decanter of firewhiskey and poured himself an ample measure.

As he placed the bottle down, he saw a sealed parchment addressed to him; one of the house-elves must have left it there. He settled into his chair and broke the seal on the letter.

Professor Snape,

I asked Professor McGonagall to give you this letter when you were sufficiently recovered to read it in the way it is intended. I am sorry. I am sorry I could not let you die, but I am tired of death. We lost Sirius, Remus, Tonks, and Fred. I didn't want the wizarding world to lose you too. I gave no thought to your feelings. Given the same choice, I would have done the same thing, so my apologies may mean little to you. I am sorry I swore at you. You have my deepest respect and I did not show you that. You asked me why I kissed you. The honest answer is, I don't know. It was maybe a childish desperation to cling to something. Professor Dumbledore said it was an expression of gratitude, a wish to swap fates, and this is why Fawkes found us. Deep down, I think I thought that a man who is about to die, a man that has seen nothing but horror for his whole adult life, should be kissed in recognition of his sacrifices. I had hoped you might think it was someone else. You know what I am saying; I can almost hear your teeth grinding in my head. I can assure you that I hoped you would never see the memory, and I forgot that you could just take it from me. I would be happy to never talk of what took place ever again, which I am sure you will be pleased to know. I understand that you are intransigent by nature, but I really wish you could try to change that. I may be insufferable to you, but I am not a know-it-all. Right now, I am waving my hand in the air for your attention and your forgiveness. I want to thank you for being the professor that taught me the most. I wonder how much more I might have learned had I not been so frightened and suspicious of you. I hope you are fully recovered and I hope you enjoy your life to come. I know you are about to throw this in the fire. That's ok, I am glad you read it, but before you scoff and mutter, 'bloody Gryffindors', before you hurl this in the fire, please remember that despite everything, I would like to be a friend. I know you won't accept that, but I had to tell you. If you need anything,

Just ask.

Hermione

'Well, that was the most disturbing letter I have ever read,' he thought.

"I don't want to disappoint you, Granger, bloody little Gryffindor that you are." He had twisted up the letter in order to hurl it into the flames when an unwelcome realization hit him and he froze.

Mortification drained his face of what little colour it possessed.

'Damn it! I am the spy, Lily's the flower, and my life's saviour is… Granger! Bloody hell, it doesn't make sense! It has got to be rubbish, just Lovegood dribble,' he thought desperately.

Placing the letter down absentmindedly, he reached again for the whiskey decanter.


	8. The mysterious Foxes from Japan

Ron waited for his coworker's return. Very quickly she was back by his side and they walked to the inner sanctum of the Department of Mysteries.

"I'm glad you work here too, Cho."

"That's really nice, Ron. I'm glad we work together as well," she responded awkwardly

"That was weird with Snape, but I'm glad you're here so I can talk about it. That prophecy was about my friends, and I can't talk about it with them unless they know about the prophecy. I'm sure they don't know, otherwise they would have said. This is huge."

"Professor Snape seemed very unhappy about it. I'm a bit scared now, to be honest. What did it mean? Is the war not over? I just wonder what it means..." Cho's face clearly showed her concern, and she suddenly asked, "Do you think Harry's safe?"

Ron looked at her thoughtfully; it had crossed his mind that she might not be over Harry.

"I'm sure he is fine, Cho. He was at the Burrow this morning with Ginny. Ginny's getting ready for her last year at Hogwarts, and Harry and Hermione are to go as well, part-time for six months. They want to pass their N.E.W.T.s. I was wondering about you. Why did you take this job?"

Cho smiled. "I simply couldn't pass this job by. Working in the Department of Mysteries, having access to knowledge others don't have, it's perfect for a Ravenclaw. What about you? Why don't you want to go back to Hogwarts?"

"I would keep seeing Fred," he said quietly. "Anyway I can still take my N.E.W.T's, I'm going to do a correspondence course the ministry have arranged it with Hogwarts. Training while earning I thing it's a great idea. What do you make of the prophecy?" he asked, suddenly changeing the subject.

"I don't know. The fox bit was interesting. I'm investigating a fox-shaped specter for aspects of dark magic at the moment. This may just be a coincidence, but it's certainly interesting. Come and have a look at the research with me. It does seem odd that the prophecy mentions a fox and that's what the bulk of my first investigation has been about."

They walked away from the entrance chamber. It was strange that now, as Unspeakables, they had full access to any door in the circular room; it would move and disorientate any unauthorized personnel. The floor was like black ink, shining and shimmering, and they almost seemed to wade along it. Twelve doors with no handles were displayed for them.

"Hall of Prophecy," Cho commanded.

A door opened and they walked through. They placed the prophecy on one of the many empty displays that filled the vast rows of shelves, and marveled at being allowed to handle such powerful objects. Even though Albus Dumbledore had communicated the contents of the prophecy to them, to have continued access to it and any other was mind blowing.

Cho walked out and Ron followed her to a small office just off the Hall of Prophecy. Her desk was littered with scrolls and parchments, but the most impressive of these was an old selection of manuscripts open at selected pages.

"I have been researching magical creatures that take fox forms. The most widely publicised is detailed in this manuscript." She put on special white gloves and picked up the document to bring it towards Ron. "This is part of the Konjaku Monogatarishu. It is a Japanese collection of over a thousand tales, written in 794 A.D. and onwards. This is the oldest copy there is. It has just become a national treasure of Japan. A Shinto priest assembled it, and it is kept at Kyoto University. We had to charm Professor Hiroshi Kagajo extensively to be allowed access to it for research purposes. "

Ron stared at the manuscript with its complex symbols and language structure.

'Hermione would love this,' he thought. He could still picture her pouring over The Tales of Beadle the Bard, learning about the Hallows.

"Can you read it?" he asked

"I'm fluent in many languages of the orient; my family likes to retain a sense of our heritage. These fables are fascinating, but because they are so old, it's taking a long time to decipher. So far, I have discovered that the fox is a common magical creature in Japan, and it has a special name but I haven't quite translated that yet. The legends come in various forms, but the most common appear to be creatures that can be good or evil, protectors or destroyers. They are always extreme; never on middle ground. They are female and can use their wiles to manipulate. They seem to have many more powers but, again, I've not translated enough," she finished, turning to look at Ron again.

"So, where have the foxes been seen? What have they been doing in the wizarding world?" he asked, trying not to sound too stupid. He realised how superior Cho's knowledge was, and also how breathtaking she could be, and how unaware of it she was.

"One fox has been seen, but the description was so detailed the Ministry wanted to investigate it thoroughly. There has also been a disappearance in the same vicinity." She took off her gloves and placed them to one side.

"Where was it and who's missing, Cho?"

"Malfoy Manor, and it's Narcissa Malfoy that is missing," was the surprising reply.

"No way!" Ron exclaimed.

"Apparently, two nights ago, Draco Malfoy reported his mother missing to the Ministry. He said a specter-like fox had been prowling the gardens and that he had seen it on the grounds. He gave us access to the memory to verify his information. I'm telling you this because the Ministry needs you to check the Veil List to make sure she has not been magically killed."

"Right then. Do you want to come with me?"

Cho hesitated. "I don't want to hear Cedric's voice"

"I know. I don't want to hear Fred's. Sorry, I'm being selfish. I just hoped you would come to the room with me. You don't have to approach the Veil, I will do that." Ron was sheepishly looking away from her.

"Ok, Ron. Let's go."

"Thanks, Cho." Ron led the way and walked to the Death Chamber.

The atmosphere in the shining, square, black room was oppressive, and they both shuddered in distaste. It was dimly lit with stone tiers leading down to a pit. In the centre of the pit stood a dais, upon which was a very old archway that shimmered and shone.

"Wait here."

Ron walked over to the Veil and cast a revealing spell.

"Aperio Mortis Narssica Malfoy," he said, flourishing his wand toward the arch.

A piece of parchment blew out from the frayed curtain. Ron read it and grimaced. Somewhere from beyond the Veil, voices could be heard whispering, feverish and insistent... Fred, Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, and many more, began to scream in his head. Gasping, he walked over to Cho.

"Narcissa Malfoy, still alive," he said. "Cho, are you free for lunch? I need to get out of here for an hour or so."

Cho tilted her head to one side and gave Ron an appraising glance. "Do you mean go out on a date, Ron Weasley?"

* * *

"Cissy?" a hoarse voice rasped out from behind the door.

"Yes, it's me. May I come in, Rodolphus?"

Narcissa didn't wait for a reply; she swept past him and into the house, her robes swishing across her elegant form. Rodolphus followed in her wake.

Once she had entered the dingy sitting room, she raised her hands to the hood of her cloak and her long, pale fingers pulled the cloth back, freeing her tresses. She stood proudly and fixed an icy, predatory stare on Rodolphus.

Their surroundings seemed to lose all colour in comparison to her radiance, and as he looked up to her face, he gasped slightly. A blaze of greed and want passed through his eyes.

"Where have you been?" he demanded roughly.

"Fulfilling my commission, while trying to regain the trust of my masters." Her eyes narrowed at his harsh tone.

"Your masters?"

"Rabastan is my master until the Dark Lord returns. Ultimately, I want you to trust me, Rodolphus. Bella would want me to watch you and serve you. I need you to master me, in all the ways in which Lucius failed."

He swallowed deeply, appearing unsure. "Bella loved you, and she always resented Lucius. You give me little reason to trust you, Cissy. Why hasn't the Ministry reported on the muggle's death? Why has this attack gone unnoticed? Why are there no reports of the muggle's kidnapping? I have no need to tell you that these are the questions your so-called master has been asking continually!" His voice grew louder and more insistent as he fired each question at her.

"Because the muggle attack had no subtlety and showed no purpose at that time. It was not the proper moment. Simply a rash act by desperate men." Her tone was lofty and cold, showing her scorn.

"Careful, Narcissa, your credit is not that high with me!" Rodolphus scowled at her.

Narcissa scoffed lightly and continued, "I have hidden the consequences of the muggle's death for now. When the time is right, I will lift the concealment and use the muggle attack to its best advantage. I will be meeting with Rabastan to discuss our strategy and I will not disappoint him."

Narcissa walked to the dusty mantelpiece and picked up the photo of Bellatrix Lestrange. The photo clearly illustrated her sister's manic energy as the figure laughed wildly and kept moving away from the frame.

"Give me a chance to prove myself to you, brother-in-law. I won't disappoint you either." Narcissa turned her back on Rodolphus and placed the photo facedown on the mantelpiece.

The action was not lost on the Death Eater, who strode over and grabbed her slender waist with one hand. He roughly pulled her to him and pushed himself against her back as hard as he could, melding their bodies together and making her legs buckle slightly. He trailed the fingers of his other hand down her shoulder, over her toned arm, and down to her wrist. He squeezed her wrist tightly, and then forced her hand away from the mantel. After releasing the painful grip on her arm, he slowly raised the photograph and rearranged it so that its occupant was looking at them.

Leaning his mouth down close to her, he whispered, "Oh no you don't, Cissy. Bella can watch."

Rodolphus ran his snake-like tongue along Narcissa's ear and dragged her to the floor.

* * *

Ron was reluctant to part with Cho after a very enjoyable lunch. They had talked, consoled, and flirted. It was a great start.

They were back in her office, and she was ready to delve once again into the translations of the Japanese documents. The redhead stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her sort out her desk, but he knew he had work to do also. He sighed, shut the door quietly, and strode off, anxious to prove himself worthy of his new employment.

He hesitated at the entrance of the Death Chamber. He didn't want to go in, but he had left the parchment that had Mrs. Malfoy's fate written on it there. It needed to be filed and a message sent to his department Head with details of its contents.

The oppressive room opened up before him. He grabbed the paper from the floor where he had stupidly dropped it after Cho's date remark.

The whispering began again and he turned to hurry back out, when he felt a pull like he was being drawn to the arch. Despite his hatred of the arch, he allowed himself to be pulled toward the Veil. Once he was next to it, he shuddered and listened to the murmurs, but he was unable to understand them. He closed his eyes and tried to distinguish voices and words.

"The final enemy to be destroyed is death!" the voices hissed out at him suddenly and clearly.

Ron staggered back drunkenly and looked again into the shimmering, waving haze within the archway, watching the indistinguishable shapes floating about. It reminded him of something; the words and the ephemeral-looking entry of the Veil. Things he had seen before…

'The Hallows,' Ron thought. 'It's all about the Hallows.'

After stumbling out of the Death Chamber, Ron took a deep, calming breath. He puffed up his chest and paced over to his office; he didn't want Cho to think he was spooked.

Once he was finished with his ministry report, he heard a knock at the door and Cho's head popped round.

"Goodnight, Ron. I enjoyed lunch today. Shall we go out somewhere this weekend?" She smiled eagerly at him.

"Well, er, yes, that would be terrific," was his less than elegant reply.

"Ok, see you tomorrow." She withdrew her head and left.

Ron spun around in his chair, whooped, and threw a fist in the air. "Twelve Fail-safe Ways to Charm Witches, who needs yah?" he shouted.

Ron finished off his work diligently, knowing he had a meeting and a training session with his superiors in the morning. After a while, he put down his quill and massaged some feeling back into his fingers. There was a knock at the door again.

"Come in," he called nervously. He hoped it wasn't his supervisor visiting, wanting to complain about his work in any way.

"Hi, Ron."

"Cho, I thought you left an hour ago," said Ron, standing in surprise.

"I forgot to give you something."

Cho walked over to Ron and pressed her lips to his. She was kissing him as he had never been kissed before, and Ron was kissing her back with one hand on her back and the other in her long, sweet lotus-smelling hair. Her hands were cupping his face gently as the kiss deepened.

Ron thought he heard a whisper, an incantation, "Imperio", but realised it must have simply been his imagination. He focused on the kiss, his hands starting to stray.

"I would do anything for you," he whispered against her neck.

Cho sighed softly. "Would you?"

He nodded fervently.

She pulled away and he groaned at the loss of contact. "Will you take me to the Heroes' Ball at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, sure, would love that," he gasped as she trailed little kisses down his neck very tenderly.

"Would you be able to tell me about the Hallows?" Cho asked, drawing away from him again. "I am studying them at the moment," she explained.

"Can I tell you about the Hallows?" Ron laughed. "Yes, I can. I can even tell you where they are," he boasted proudly.

Cho smiled coldly.


	9. Back to school

Very few of the seventh years from the previous term had made the decision to come back to Hogwarts, but Professor McGonagall was delighted that Harry and Hermione were returning. She had devised many ideas to keep them happy and allow them their freedom as adults without affecting the other students. McGonagall had given them a list of classmates that would be joining them.

Neville Longbottom was to return, but only to study Herbology. He would be privately tutored by Professor Sprout, who hoped to use him as her teaching assistant if he passed his N.E.W.T. with a sufficient grade.

From Gryffindor, Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan were set to attend on a part-time basis, all using the floo network to connect their homes with the school.

From Hufflepuff, Ernie Macmillan, Susan Bones, and Zacharias Smith were also sitting for their N.E.W.T.s.

From Ravenclaw, Terry Boot, Lisa Turpin, Padma Patil, and Michael Corner were to return.

From the house of Slytherin, not one had chosen to return.

The Headmistress said to Harry and Hermione that one or two students were taking their N.E.W.T.s using correspondence courses, particularly students already in work or suffering from posttraumatic stress. Unfortunately, a very small amount of those that had fought in the last battle, or were subjected to the Carrows' ministrations, had escaped without some mental scars, and some felt that they could not go back to Hogwarts.

Ron Weasley had also communicated with the school, asking to complete his N.E.W.T.s on a correspondence course.

McGonagall told them that Draco Malfoy had desperately wanted to return to the school, but it had been recommended that he took a correspondence course to avoid any unpleasant behaviour on the part of unforgiving students. He had agreed, and she was surprised at how penitent he was. The Slytherin even gained a trainee position at the Ministry helping with investigations of those who misused muggle artefacts, an occupation that Arthur Weasley had recently vacated.

What the professor hadn't told them was that the pale, haunted, young man had broken down in her office and cried like a small boy. He displayed complete remorse for what he and his family had done. Such matters should be private, and she felt sympathy for him. As she had mentioned to Dumbledore, his environment engendered his behaviour and fear for his life had made his self-preservation all the more apparent. Not all of his actions could be blamed on others, though, so she had told him to be diligent in his work to gain the trust of his peers. She also informed him that the Malfoy pride would not help him in that respect. He had said to her through his tears that pride was a luxury he no longer had. McGonagall had hugged the boy, who resisted at first, only to sink into the nonjudgmental arms of someone who cared. He went away determined to salvage whatever he could from his position.

The Headmistress had gone to a lot of trouble to accommodate the extra students. A new table was added in the Great Hall for all of those wishing to dine at school. They would not be sat with their house, and they would not be earning house points. They were adults and were to be treated as such. Many of the lessons would be private, or would be taught in a small group.

Hermione and Harry were given rooms; a sitting room, a restroom, and a separate small office with floor to ceiling bookcases and two leather armchairs set next to a large fireplace. The fire was opened up to the floo network and connected to Grimmauld Place, where they would still sleep. They could have meals brought to the sitting room or join the students in the Great Hall.

McGonagall was pleased with the arrangements she had made and she was looking forward to the school's new start.

Snape, on the other hand, was dreading it.

* * *

Harry and Hermione were ready for their brief return to Hogwarts Castle.

It felt strange to be arriving by a personal floo from Grimmauld Place. They missed that childish excitement and anticipation they always felt at the sight of the gleaming Hogwarts Express.

By mutual consent, they had chosen to miss the Sorting ceremony and the feast, to allow new students to enjoy the first evening at school without the distractions of war heroes sitting with them. Instead, the decision was made to have a small gathering in the Room of Requirement for those returning to Hogwarts as mature students.

They flooed into the handsome sitting room they had been given and looked around in appreciation. The square room was decorated in Gryffindor colours, and a large stone fireplace, magically charmed to crackle away, gave off a warm and inviting glow. Big squashy sofas were arranged around a walnut coffee table that was in front of the fire and adorned by a gold bowl full of fruit.

A little note propped up beside the bowl declared this to be a gift from Professor McGonagall. The note also expressed the wish to meet with them both in her office before breakfast.

Turning to take in the rest of the room, they saw a double desk situated to one side, with quills and parchment ready for use. Bookcases lined that side of the room, too. On the opposite wall, there were two doors; one to a bathroom containing an enormous bath with six taps, the other to a very small kitchen with a kettle and hot plate.

"Wow, that bath's massive," Hermione said, running her hands along the scalloped edges of the shell-shaped tub.

"It's not as big as the Prefects' bath, you can swim in that, but it's big enough for you to hog for hours," Harry grumbled.

"If I'm taking too long, you can always floo to Grimmauld Place and use the bathroom there. We will be sleeping there anyway. I doubt Ron will be using the bath."

"I doubt he will; that bath is rank! No matter how hard Kreature cleans it, it still looks like something's died in it, as well you know. That's why we always use the shower," Harry replied haughtily. "Well, shall we meet the gang?"

Hermione closed the door to the bathroom. "I'm ready, let's go"

They left the sitting room and made their way to the Room of Requirement.

In front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, Harry paced back and forth three times, thinking, 'We need a place to meet our friends, eat, and celebrate.'

Hermione opened the door that appeared on the wall and walked through. A roar of welcome arose from the occupants of the room, and a stampede of hugs, shoulder punches, and handshakes advanced on them.

The walls were decked in the house colours of each student present, a long table was set along the center of the room, candles floated in midair, and the ceiling reflected the late summer evening sky. It was a miniature Great Hall.

After all the greetings had been made, they took to their seats and watched the platters fill with food. Harry looked around the table while reaching out for a plate of sausages.

"Did Luna decide not to come back?" he asked Neville.

"No, she's here, but she's a year below us all, so she should be with Ginny in the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall told me they had given her a position as trainee Divination mistress. I think that is the position she wanted when she left school and it made sense to set her off along the way. Luna and Ginny have been given rooms to share, to protect them from too much scrutiny from their house members. It's a bit like me, really. Harry, I'm to be a Herbology master, me...Neville. Can you believe it?"

Harry laughed. "I can, Neville. You will be great; everyone's favourite teacher."

"Well, I don't know about that, Harry, but the best thing is I never have to have another lesson with Professor Snape," said Neville happily.

"You will have to sit in the staff room with him, you will have staff meetings with him, and you may have to do night patrol with him." Harry pointed out with a grin.

Neville's face sank like a stone.

"Didn't think about that," he admitted. "Still, I'll just picture him in a dress with my gran's Sunday-best hat on, and try not to wet myself every time he looks at me." He shrugged and took the plate of sausages off Harry.

Harry laughed again and then noticed that Hermione sat very still, staring into space.

"Hermione, what's up? Are you protesting about house-elves again?" Harry asked, lightly spraying the air with bits of sausage.

"Ergh, gross! Do you eat like that in front of Ginny? You're as bad as Ron. Chew, swallow, then talk, you troll," Hermione said, snapping out of it and reaching for a meat and potato pie that Zacaharias passed out to her.

Harry swallowed loudly. "All right, mother. Seriously, are you ok? You looked a bit like Luna for a second there."

Hermione paused to take a bite of the pie and chewed it thoroughly before responding.

"Neville has just reminded me about Professor Snape. I wonder if Professor McGonagall has given him my letter. I hope not because I've changed my mind. He will never understand that letter. How embarrassing! I wrote it in haste and I'm not even sure I constructed it that well. I also forgot I would have to see him again… This is mortifying!" Hermione groaned.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure McGonagall didn't give it to him. You can just ask for it back. Now tuck in."

Harry turned away to watch all his old classmates happily chatting about this and that. The wounds of war were slowly healing in the face of friendship. Harry felt truly at home.

The next day, Harry and Hermione arrived early to their little sitting room at Hogwarts. Brushing the ash off their robes, they started to walk towards the Head's office.

Upon arriving, they saw Professor McGonagall outside her office talking to Professor Snape. The professors looked up when they heard the approaching footsteps, and then Snape slowly twisted his head back towards McGonagall.

"I will be leaving now, Headmistress. You have... heroes approaching," said Snape softly.

He turned on his heel and stalked past Hermione and Harry without a second glance.

"Good morning to you too, sir!" Harry shouted at the wizard's retreating back.

Snape paused mid-flight, his long black-robed frame spun round and he faced Potter. His dark eyes were alight with malice and they glinted through the curtain of his hair.

"How good of our hero to condescend to pass the time of day... to me." Snape's voice was full of scorn. He once again turned and disappeared down the corridor.

Hermione smiled slightly. "Welcome back, professor," she whispered to herself.

Professor McGonagall sighed. "That man drives me up the wall. If I could just take house points off him, it would make me feel better. Anyway, Mr. Potter and Miss Granger, thank you for being so punctual. Step up to my office. Unfortunately, Professor Dumbledore has charmed this office to only accept sweet names as passwords, so this week it's 'pepper imps'!" at the words, the staircase spiraled down to meet them.

Once they were in her office, the Headmistress sat behind her desk and motioned for the pair to be seated.

"We have a few things to discuss. I have your timetables here, so peruse them at your leisure. I also feel I need to tell you something else." She paused and looked towards Dumbledore's portrait. Satisfied that he was snoozing happily, she continued, "When Luna was here arranging her trainee position, she went into a trance and created a prophecy now housed at the Department of Mysteries."

Harry leaned forward slightly while Hermione simply waited.

"It concerned you both. I don't keep secrets, I am not Professor Dumbledore, and you have a right to know anything pertaining to yourselves."

She proceeded to recount the words of the prophecy.

Harry and Hermione stared at each other in shock.


	10. Ancient Egyptian tragedy

1513 B.C.

A catastrophe occurred in the life of the Pharaoh. Just after midnight at the palace in Thebes, the Pharaoh was woken and there began a great outcry the like of which had never been seen before.

Surrounded by the opulence of his rulership, kneeling by a richly adorned bed, the Pharaoh put his head against the body of his son.

"My son, my son, why do you lay down? First born of my flesh, you would be the next Pharaoh of Egypt. Rise up, my son, rise up! Your time is yet to come. The people worship us like gods and still you die. Wake up, my son, for the time has not yet come for your pyramid to be built! Oh my son, my son!" He wailed out his anguish.

His servant approached him, bowing profusely.

"Your son is with the gods now, oh Pharaoh," he said, keeping his eyes downcast.

The Egyptian king raised his head. "Bring me Jannes, bring me Jambres; my magic-practicing priests. Where are they when I need them? Find them now! They boast and brag of a new power over death they stole from Anubis. Well, where is it? Oh my son, not my son," he finished with fresh tears. Spinning round to the frightened servant, he spat out his command, "Find them now. Go!"

From the shadows of the room, a woman clad in white moved towards the candlelight and prostrated herself at the sovereign's feet.

"He is my son too, oh Pharaoh," she said quietly.

The Pharaoh looked at her through his anguish. "Yes he is, and yet you failed to keep him alive. You with your power and wisdom, you and your knowledge of death, your boasted connections to the great god Anubis." He turned on his knees to her prone figure and put his hand under her chin and yanked her up to his level. Pushing her head towards the bed, he said "Look at him... my son, our son. Dead."

The woman blinked through the pain of his grip. Her long, beautiful, black hair cascaded down her slender back, framing a profile that was sad and bereft, but anger seethed beneath the surface of her ivory skin.

"My Pharaoh, what I would do, what I would give to see my son rule this land. And yet there is hope; we have the Stone of Anubis himself. Perhaps it will work. You are a god to the people. Maybe the gods will help us."

Pharaoh shoved her roughly to the floor and she slid across the flagstones, her head banging against the unyielding surface. She lay still and quiet, her legs and arms splayed in protest to her violent fall. She silently offered up a prayer to the god Anubis.

A gong rang and the voice of his servant filled the death chamber. "Oh mighty Pharaoh, ruler of Egypt, the high priests Jannes and Jambres request an audience with you."

The Pharaoh straightened his stance, ready to receive his visitors.

The huge, gold-plated doors swung open to reveal his two high priests, dressed in white linen, their shaven heads bowed as they entered the room.

"Our Pharaoh, we humbly fall before you. We share the grief of Egypt at the loss of our prince," Jannes announced.

The two men waited for their leader to speak, visibly cowering before his presence.

"You, Jannes, and you, Jambres, have boasted of your power, gloried in your knowledge of dark secrets. If your boasts are true, you have the power of Anubis. So bring back my son! If you fail, you will be executed as traitors. The noses and feet of your mortuary statues will be hacked off and any inscriptions will be erased to make certain you will be lost and crippled in the afterlife. Magic killed my son. Ensure that magic brings him back!"

The arcane priests of Egypt hesitated in horror of the fate that seemed destined to befall them. Their new argument would be of no avail.

"Take my queen with you. She has boasted in a similar vein." He motioned to the inert woman on the ground.

Jambres took from his robes a wand entwined with a snake and pointed it towards the queen. Her body rose into the air and they meekly bowed to the Pharaoh, departing with the floating queen and leaving him to sink once again to his knees.

Making their way out of the palace, they headed for the temple. They passed through the pillared outer sanctuaries and delved into the inner sanctums of the holy place. A statue of Anubis was holding up the ceiling, his jackal face looking down at an altar below. Jambres levitated the queen's body to the altar. Jannes muttered an incantation and she began to stir.

"Our Queen, death is awaiting us. The Stone of Resurrection will not work. We have tried every invocation from the Book of the Dead and cast every known spell onto the Stone. Nothing, my Queen, nothing! We stole something worthless from the gods. Pharaoh will kill us all for our blasphemy."

The queen lifted her face to the effigy of the god. "Forgive us, Anubis, and spare my son."

The sculpture slowly animated, and then its animalistic head darted around suddenly, eliciting small gasps of panic from the three gathered before it.

"I help you? I know what you are, fox, and you stole from me," he growled.

"For my son, my precious son. You must understand!" she implored.

"What is your son to me, who can hide from death? I am the master of death and only I wield the power of it. My Stone will not work when stolen; you have to truly possess it. You must defeat me or I must give it to you. Still, it will not function without all of its elements. I have the elements, you do not, and yet you presume to steal from me, you and your greedy, grasping, magic-practicing priests, whose power is now impotent." As he spoke, Jannes and Jambres fell to the floor, whimpering at the sight of their allusive deity.

Anubis let out a mighty bellow that shook the temple to its foundation and his hands tore away from the ceiling. Rocks fell from above as the enraged god grabbed Jannes and

Jambres. They screamed as they were lifted into the air, wildly thrashing about, trying to free themselves from the crushing pressure of Anubis' hands. The fists closed tighter and tighter, the sound of choking echoing off of the walls until their limp bodies were hurled across the temple. More stones cracked and fell, covering the pitiful figures. He shouted out a summoning spell and a wand flew from the priests.

The gigantic statue caught the wand and pushed it down his throat. "I think that is mine as well," he growled out.

The noise of the crumbling temple grew louder and louder, rocks and pillars falling close to the woman, who was trying to scramble away.

"You cannot escape me! Show yourself for what you are, you demon of the orient!" Anubis snarled at her.

The queen halted at the words, and then her whole body began to spasm and shake. She shrank in size and her features lengthened. The fox stood before Anubis.

"Give me back the Stone! Give me the Sekhen, vixen!" Anubis roared over the deafening sounds of destruction.

The fox gagged and from its mouth fell an onyx stone, black as night yet seeming to shine brightly.

Anubis uttered a charm and the stone flew to his mouth and he swallowed it. His statue became still. Cracks appeared on the effigy, snaking and branching out along the ornate surface, and then it shattered into a thousand pieces.

The fox crawled from the rubble and slunk away into the Egyptian dawn.

Pharaoh never saw his queen again and his son was laid to rest with Anubis watching over his mummification.

The Sekhen was forgotten. As centuries went by, kingdom after kingdom raised its head, and Anubis reincarnated with every generation until Death became his name.

Little did Death know that he would be freely relinquishing his gifts to wizards of the future who would seek the mastery of him.

And the fox would always be watching.

In the Forbidden Forest, the onyx stone waited in the undergrowth. Someone would find it, but would they learn how to master it?


	11. Kind words please Severus

The school routine began.

Hogwarts was filled with all the typical small dramas; homesick kids, schoolyard pranks, the boasting of those who would try out for the Quidditch teams.

The stairs were playing their usual tricks and confusing the first years, all of whom were unfamiliar with the layout. Peeves was shooting through the corridors, chucking various items at the students and singing rude refrains, delighted to once again have the castle full of people to torment.

Nearly Headless Nick was still nearly headless. He floated through the hallways with his head held high until someone offended him and then his head would wobble and drop to the side.

'Wonderful, trivial things,' thought Harry as he strode through the castle towards the Great Hall. Hermione was by his side with her customary and intent 'let's get learning' expression set firmly on her face. Harry felt eleven and awkward again.

They had quickly recovered from the shock of the prophecy as neither put much stock in Divination, and decided it was just another of Luna's peculiarities and nothing to be too concerned over. Still, it rankled at the back of their minds.

They were meeting Ginny and Luna for lunch, and they agreed to not mention the prophecy to them. Luna, they were told, seemed unaware that she had spoken it, and Harry was not keen to make his girlfriend worry so soon after the war.

Through the massive doors and there they were in the Great Hall. It was full of happy noise and the smells of fantastic food. A smaller table, in addition to the main four, stood next to the Slytherin table.

'Was that on purpose?' Harry wondered. The school had been warned to treat all classes as equals and nearly decided to remove the House names. After various discussions with the Ministry and several votes by the Board of Governors, it was decided to keep the Houses but ensure more interaction and friendship between them. This was to be upheld in every area except Quidditch, where competitive jibes were still allowed.

The fifth table was half full already.

Harry smiled at Ginny and slipped over to the chair saved at her side. He kissed her cheek and asked, "How's your first morning been?"

Ginny squeezed his hand under the table. "Fine, Harry. I'm glad the professors are letting me sit with you at meal times. On the days you're not at Hogwarts, I have to supervise the Gryffindor table. I've been made Head Girl," she said proudly.

"I'm happy for you. How have your lessons gone so far?"

"Erm… great, but you won't like this, Harry. You know how you thought Snape would return to teach Potions and a new Defense professor would be found?"

Harry closed his eyes and waited for the hammer to fall.

"Well, he's still teaching D.A.D.A. and Professor Slughorn has agreed to stay a while longer to continue with Potions until the positions are filled." She looked at Harry, who still had not opened his eyes, and watched his lips murmur unpleasant things.

"Should of known. The one class I need to excel in, and Snape's gonna balls it up for me. Do you see me getting Exceeds Expectations in his class?" He slammed his fist down on the table in exasperation and swore loudly, while Ginny continued stroking his other hand in a soothing manner.

Hermione jumped at the unexpected bang on the table and the vulgar expletive that would have made Ron blush. She stopped her conversation with Luna and Neville to turn to Harry and ask what on earth was wrong.

Before she had the chance to, Professor Snape materialized next to their table and grasped Harry's shoulder roughly.

'How does he just appear out of nowhere?' Hermione marveled.

The professor leaned down towards his quarry and hissed, "Language, Potter. I thought you had been warned? Our Hogwarts mascot must set a good example for all these irritating brats who are pathetically flourishing wands, pretending to be you. Do you want them to go home to their mothers copying that vile phrase? I fear your reputation may become a little tarnished."

Harry, to his credit, didn't jump in surprise or even turn round. "Do I get a detention from you, Professor?" he said in an even tone.

"Regrettably, no. It is no longer in my power. I am your professor still, but not your disciplinarian. I could refuse to teach you, though," he considered thoughtfully.

"Then, for Merlin's sake, exercise your rights and do just that!" Harry exclaimed. "If you can't discipline me then you can't manhandle me. So, with respect, remove your hand."

At this point, Harry turned to face down his teacher, and he was unprepared for the look on his face. He had expected hatred, a vengeful stare, or something like that.

Instead, Professor Snape removed his hand and proffered it to him. "Welcome back to Hogwarts, Mr. Potter. If you can manage to refrain from your expletive tirades in front of the students, the lower years at least, the faculty will be very appreciative."

Harry shook his professor's hand, confused by the strange lack of malice in Snape's black eyes.

Releasing his hand, he added, "Your lectures with me are shared by Miss Granger. It is written on the timetable, and if it is as awful as we both seem to think, I'm sure we will all be calling on Merlin for our release from this mortal coil."

He spun on his heel and headed for the staff table without so much as looking at Hermione, who was seriously considering putting her hand up.

The whole table had listened to this surprising exchange but they had no time to discuss it as Hagrid crashed towards them, his face in the biggest grin possible and his massive arms outstretched. Harry and Hermione flung themselves at him and made arrangements for tea in his new hut.

As lunch finished and the students filed out to class, Hermione watched the professors begin to leave. She made an excuse to Harry, who was enthusiastically saying goodbye to Ginny, and made her way to the teachers' table.

How he knew she was aiming for him she could only guess, but Snape purposely left the opposite way from her approach. Meaning she had to sprint around the back of the table after him. She caught up with him halfway down the hall and clutched at his arm.

He rounded on her and shook her hand off. "What do you want, Miss Granger?"

Hermione panicked at her impudence, for assuming that he would allow her to speak to him, and really didn't know what to say. She was also getting curious looks from various students hurrying past.

"I don't know," she stammered nervously.

"You don't know? Are you losing that brilliant mind of yours, Miss Granger?" he said slowly.

"I think I must be," her voice quivered slightly.

Professor Snape looked down at Hermione and sneered at her. "Then perhaps you could find a less conspicuous place to exhibit any temporary insanity?"

Her eyes shone overly bright as tears began to form, and Snape suddenly felt very ill at ease.

"Are you trying to ascertain if I have read a certain letter?" he questioned abruptly, deciding to get this exchange over with.

"Yes," she replied, resolutely holding her head high.

"Yes, Miss Granger, I received your missive. I do not need a friend but thank you for your concern. Can we can conclude this frankly disturbing interlude now?"

"You may not need a friend, but I might." Hermione hastily turned from him and sprinted down the hall and out of sight before the tears could give way.

"What the hell was that?" Snape mused aloud.

"That was a troubled young girl looking for sympathy in quite the wrong place, Severus," Professor McGonagall answered his rhetorical question.

The two professors walked together away from the Great Hall.

"Are you going to talk to her properly? You could have killed her with your childish temper tantrum when you last saw her. Is it so unbelievable to you that she might desire a kind word?"

"Minerva, when did you give yourself the task of trying to reform me? Did I ask for it? If you feel a kind word might make that mental Gryffindor back off, then I shall consider it. How do I make you back off, Headmistress?"

"I desire kind words and friendship too, Severus," she replied with a laugh.

Professor Snape scoffed and headed off to his next Defense class.

As he made his way, he groaned at the thought of his first lesson tomorrow with Potter and Granger.

* * *

That evening at Grimmauld Place, Harry and Hermione talked over their day with Ron.

"That must have been cool, taking Snape down a peg or two!" Ron exclaimed eagerly.

"Not so much, really. Didn't get the reaction I expected," replied Harry with a shrug.

Hermione kept very quiet during this conversation and then, deciding to divert it, she said, "Heh, Ron, how's it going with your latest crush?"

"What's this? You never said! Who are you chasing now?" Harry asked.

"Just someone at work," Ron said hurriedly, brushing it off. "Actually, it's a bit strange. We arranged a date." He ignored the 'ooohhhsss' and wolf whistles and continued on, "So that was cool, and then she went home for the evening… but then she came back, said she'd forgotten something, and snogged my face off in my office. It was intense." His face went all dreamy at the memory.

"Well yes, anyone snogging you must be a bit strange." Harry laughed.

"Shut up! That wasn't the strange bit. The next day she never mentioned it. We went on the date, she smiled and seemed to have fun, but at the end she just skipped off without so much as a peck on the cheek."

"You must have been a bit crap, so she might have regretted it, mate," Harry gibed.

"I'm sure it was fine, Ron." Hermione shot a warning glare at Harry. "Why didn't you ask? Why didn't you make a move that might have been what she was waiting for?"

"Possibly. You have a point there, 'Mione. She had asked me if I would go to the Heroes' Ball with her. I mentioned it again at the end of the date, and this was really weird, she claimed she didn't remember asking me but that she would like to go with me. How odd is that?"

"Who the hell are we talking about?" Harry questioned, suddenly intrigued.

Ron braced himself and said, "Cho Chang" He winced and looked over at his friend.

For a moment there was silence.

Hermione laughed and said "Awkward!" in a jovial tone.

Then Harry chuckled. "It certainly is, but I'm not sure why. I'm thrilled for you, Ron. Does she still cry when she kisses?"

"That's why it's awkward, you prat! You've kissed her too. Only you made her cry and I was so awesome I wiped her memory!"

"I suggest just starting again. Forget it and move on. Wait 'till you're in your posh togs at the ball and swoop in. You have got posh togs now, haven't you? You're not wearing your Aunty Muriel's robe again, are you? Cause that will see her off," suggested Harry helpfully.

"When is the ball, Ron?" Hermione asked.

"Oh yeah, I forgot. Your invites are on the table; the Ministry gave them to me today."

"Halloween! Should have guessed," she mused, reading through the invite. "Hmm… It's a shame Crookshanks died. I would have taken him." She grimaced.

"Get yourself out there and put yourself about a bit. Nab someone before you're left with all the trolls."

"Thank you, Ronald, but I'm perfectly happy to go by myself," she responded firmly.

"You could always ask Snape. I doubt he has a date," said Harry cheerfully.

Ron laughed so hard at this that he was crying. "Errghhh, horrible! I dare you to ask him, Hermione, just for giggles."

"Sorry, but I don't have a death wish, and I fail to see why Professor Snape going to a ball amuses you so much." Hermione turned away so the boys couldn't see how mortified this conversation was making her.

"Because he is the greasy bat of the dungeons and he looks like he's never had fun in his life. That's why it's funny."

"No, Ron, I think you might be wrong there. He certainly has had very little fun, but at one time he was best friends with my mum, and she loved having fun from what I've been told. McGonagall said that my mum taught Snape to dance for a Yule Ball once." Harry contemplated his mother's unlikely friendship with such an unpleasant man. "I think all his fun died with my mother's friendship. I think he died when she did." He looked up in surprise as Hermione ran from the room with a stifled sob.

Ron chased her up the stairs to her room. She had slammed the old oak door and he stood outside it.

"'Mione?" he called gently. "What's wrong with you? What did we do? Please open the door."

He waited a few moments before the door began to open. Hermione still had one hand over her eyes as she faced Ron.

Ron took her hand away and bent down so he could look into her eyes. "What did we do?"

"Nothing, Ron. I'm being silly. I just think I did Professor Snape a great injustice by saving his life. I know he wanted to die so he could be free. It's no wonder he hates me."

"Hermione, he hates everyone, so don't let that bother you. You had to save his life because you are a good person. Stop fretting about it. Please come down, Kreacher's making us some supper."

Hermione allowed Ron to escort her downstairs. Feeling very foolish, she apologised to Harry.

"Nothing to apologise for," he replied immediately.

They had their dinner. As the night drew on, they went to bed and waited for what tomorrow would bring.

The next morning, before Ron left for the Ministry, Harry and Hermione flooed to Hogwarts. Deciding to savor the full delights of a Great Hall breakfast prior to facing Professor Snape, they hurried through the castle to get there with plenty of time to eat.

Once seated, they listened and chatted to their friends until the familiar sound of owl wings filled the air above. The chattering of students heightened as they started to inspect their post. A letter was offered to Harry by a very elegant owl, one that he thought he may have seen before. It held still while he untied the small burden from its outstretched leg, and once free, the owl flew away.

Harry opened the letter. "It's from Draco Malfoy," he said with a start.

He read it quietly to Ginny and Hermione.

Hello Potter,

I'm sure you're doing well.

I know we have not seen eye-to-eye for most of our lives and I doubt we ever will. We need to find my Mother. She has been taken and I'm sure it is part of something dark; I know what dark feels like. I don't want to go back to that; I'm making a new life right now.

Since she saved your life, she has not been the same, and now she has disappeared. It's not something I want other people sticking their noses into but you were always good at being sneaky and finding things you weren't supposed to. That's what I need now.

I am asking for your help. I would like to speak with you as a matter of urgency.

Yours,

Draco Malfoy

"Well, he's got cheek, I will give him that," remarked Ginny in disbelief. "How many times does he expect you to save his pathetic hide?"

"How on earth did they get away with not being sent to Azkaban?" Hermione whispered, so as not to be heard by the Slytherin table.

"Well, Lucius Malfoy used his money, and claimed to have been regularly cursed into doing Voldemort's more violent crimes. He said he was too weak to withstand the constant threat of death over his family, and to have originally supported Voldemort's ideas because supremacy of the wizarding world would prevent the witch hunts of medieval times from happening again. He genuinely believed in the greater good. By the time he realised his mistake, he was in too deep. He also claimed that Bellatrix had regularly used Unforgivable Curses on Draco to ensure that he remained on Voldemort's side. Complete balderdash, worthy of Gilderoy Lockhart himself, but, unfortunately, he took Veritaserum and his report was to be believed. I think he used his money to buy someone off and they probably switched potions. The Ministry cast a memory charm on Draco and he did seem to have been the subject of Bellatrix's abuse, so his name was cleared without a full trial. Narcissa was cleared as it was because of her that I got back into Hogwarts to defeat Voldemort." Harry explained all of this in a low tone; he had no intention of letting the nearby Slytherins hear.

"Are you going to meet him then, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"Well yes, I suppose so. I don't want to be an arse about it."

"You have every right to be an arse about it. He was a bully!" said Ginny defiantly.

"Everyone makes mistakes, Ginny." Hermione glanced over at the staff table, where a sour-faced man was talking to Professor Flitwick.

"Yeah, I will meet him anyway. What's your owl?"

Hermione had received two deliveries. One was a letter from her Mum and Dad, telling her how Africa was treating them and containing some provisional dates for meeting up. The other was a package.

"Open it, Hermione," Harry said, eyeing the parcel with interest.

She deftly opened the brown paper package. A very old book lay before her.

"Book of Souls… Translated from ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics," she read.

"Who sent you that?" Ginny asked, touching the book's spine gently.

"It doesn't say, but look at that!" Hermione pointed under the title of the book, upon which was a symbol of a stick with a circle around it and a triangle encompassing both.

"The Hallows!" they cried out in unison.


	12. Drunken Draco and a nightcap with Snape

Standing outside Professor Snape's office, Hermione and Harry looked at each other nervously.

"Well, here goes," Harry said with resignation.

He raised his hand to knock on the door, and it swung open while his hand was still raised stupidly in midair.

"Are you going to stand there all day, Potter?" came the expected baritone sneer.

Cautiously, they stepped into their professor's lair. It had changed little. A dark, shadowy room lined with shelves housing hundreds of glass jars, inside of which floated various repulsive things. The office was warmed by the soft glow of candlelight.

Snape flicked his wand and two chairs glided over. "Sit!" he barked.

They quickly sat down, and Hermione placed her bag and new book down on the floor to her side.

"Well, how shall we begin the torture?" the professor mocked.

"How about your usual disparaging speech? The one given to intimidate first years, the one you're really known for," replied Harry.

"Indeed, why not? It has always been a particular favourite. There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making... Ahhh, that's where it goes wrong; I'm regrettably no longer your Potions master."

"That was most enjoyable and I refrained from taking notes!" Harry scoffed.

"And I see Granger's managed to keep her incessantly waving hand down. Wonders will never cease. It's only taken seven years!"

"I assume you have some content to this lesson, Professor?" Hermione said tersely.

"You never disappoint, do you, Granger? Yes, I have my lessons planned. The both of you already know a great deal about defense, but neither of you had time to understand any of its subtleties. Your homework every week is to research the origin of all major curses and to research all the counter curses. I also have a separate project that I want you to research. I will be setting you coursework each week looking into various types of ancient and powerful wandless magic." He paused to gauge the reaction of his mature students.

Harry's face was passively bored while Hermione's eyes lit up with pleasure.

'As expected,' he thought.

"Lessons will be of a practical nature, so that has just rendered my little opening speech null and void. I will be subjected to lots of foolish wand-waving. We will duel once a week. In addition, and you will like this, Potter, the only other area of work you need serious improvement in is Occlumency. I said I would never teach you again. I eat my words continually, do I not? It seems I have no secrets left anyway."

Harry's face fell in horror. He hated Occlumency; he was awful at it.

Hermione, on the other hand, didn't know what to feel. She had always wanted to learn about it and to be able to practice it, but she did not want Professor Snape to be the one teaching it. He was already messing with her mind remotely. How much worse would it get with him in her head?

"Potter, you're first."

Harry trembled slightly as he got to his feet.

"Take out your wand."

They faced each other over the desk that was between them.

"Brace yourself!" He pointed his wand at Harry. "Legilimens!"

Image after image raced by and Harry felt like he was screaming 'Get out!', but it was all in his head. His resistance to Snape was practically nonexistent. A vivid film of his life shot past his eyes at rapid speed. Voldemort's snake eyes... His hissing voice... Nagini... Dead bodies… Fred... Remus... The shadows of his parents, the Resurrection Stone falling to the floor... The wand with Dumbledore... The Hallows, the owning of the Hallows… Under the cloak with Ginny, kissing Ginny, more than kissing Ginny...

"No, no, no!" the voice eventually broke out in a shrill scream. "That's not for you to see!" Harry was on his knees in front of the desk, panting painfully.

"Do you think I wanted to see that? I honestly have rarely felt so nauseated. I actually think you have gotten worse at this, Potter. Get up!"

Harry stood up shakily.

"Is that it? Are you just going to plunge into our minds, take what you want, and then torment us afterwards? You haven't even told Harry how to repel you from his mind. What kind of help is 'brace yourself'? Are you going to explain it properly or do I have to find a book?"

Harry looked at Hermione in surprise at her outburst.

"Miss Granger, feel free to turn to you beloved books if you feel it will be more beneficial than my tutorial. I will warn you that in order to understand Occlumency, you have to have had your mind invaded without restriction. Only then can you understand how to block the Legilimens." Snape walked around his desk and opened the door. "Good day, Miss Granger."

Hermione shifted slightly in her seat, uneasily glancing at the professor. "I apologise, sir. I would like to remain, if that is acceptable."

"Very well, Granger. You can remain on one condition… You never question my methods again. Do you think you can refrain from being an insufferable know-it-all?"

Hermione nodded mutely and Snape returned to his chair. Silence pervaded the air as all three regarded one another.

The professor placed his steepled fingers under his chin and looked menacingly at Hermione, his coal-black eyes narrowing as he appraised her. The girl visibly wilted under his glare.

"Prepare yourself, Granger."

Hermione clenched her teeth and closed her eyes, knowing what was coming.

"Clear your mind. Let go of all emotion. Now, on the count of three... One, two, three, Legilimens!"

A snake slithered across a grimy floor. Darting attacks, each move punctuated with a hiss... Blackness... Professor Snape slumped against the wall... Fevered hands preparing potions… Crying... Leaning forward, stroking the pale face... Tears dripping…

Hermione released an ear-piercing shriek and her wand flew out in a convulsive grip. "Relinquo Mentis!"

The room came back into focus. Hermione put her hand to her head and swept her hair from her face. She was mortified by the revisit of Professor Snape's near death and the emotion that accompanied it, her breathing slow and laboured.

Glancing up to confront what was most likely an angry professor, she was confused to see that he was no longer standing in front of her. She turned to Harry and they looked at each other for a moment. Harry wordlessly pointed behind the desk, his mouth slightly ajar.

Hermione nervously walked to the back of Snape's ornate, ebony desk. The professor was sprawled out on the floor behind it.

He stared up at Hermione with an incredulous expression. "Who taught you that, Granger?"

Wincing imperceptibly, he raised a hand to his head, searching out a small wound inflicted by being flung into a bookcase.

"Books, sir," she answered hesitantly.

A low, reverberating, mirthless laugh escaped his narrow lips. "Obviously," he drawled, bringing his hand down to look at the claret liquid glistening on his white fingers. His lip curled slightly in contemplation.

"You're bleeding," Hermione observed stupidly, getting on her knees and shuffling towards him. She raised her wand and his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist.

"Don't wave that infernal stick of yours at me. I can heal a little cut without your assistance." He threw her arm away from him, leaving sticky red fingerprints on her wrist.

Hermione looked down at the bloody smears in disgust.

"You've seen worse, Granger! We have just established that! Vulnera Sanentur," he chanted as he raised his wand to the back of his head.

Having healed himself, he pushed his long hair out of his face and, with one fluid movement, rose to his feet. He brushed his robes down smooth, and then straightened the white cuffs protruding from his tightly buttoned sleeve.

Hermione was still on her knees looking up at Snape while trying to wipe the blood off of her skin with her robes.

"For Merlin's sake, get up, Granger! It is I that suffered a near concussion, not you. Now sit back down."

Hermione scrambled back to her seat. Harry still had his mouth open.

"Shut your mouth, Potter, you look like a fish."

Harry clamped his jaw shut with a snap.

"It pains me to say it, but that was a very effective way to repel me from your mind. It is a shame you cannot clear your mind of thought and emotion before your attacker has the chance to see. This is the first time I have missed Mr. Weasley. I'm sure he would have been very efficient at clearing his mind!"

Harry huffed in righteous indignation on behalf of his friend.

"Mr. Potter, try again. Empty your mind completely, or focus on something impenetrable, like a steel wall. Only think of that. Ignore my intrusion because I can't get in, I don't matter. It's impenetrable, a safe house... Do it, Potter. Count of three. One, two, three, Legilimens!"

Harry barely had time to prepare, but he concentrated on the image of a wall. He felt dizzy, and his wall was wavering and wobbling. He felt sick. Gritting his teeth and fixing his feet firmly on the floor, he drew up all his energy and focused on the wall. He could feel Snape pushing, forcing himself roughly against the barriers of his mind. He sensed Snape's determination and tried to match it. His mental construct bent, wavered, and then vanished as his professor came crashing in searching for something.

He was in the forest... It was dark... The ring glinted on the floor... Snape looked around wildly before retreating from his memories.

Harry slumped back on his chair with a groan.

"Better. You kept me out for quite some time. Practice, much more practice, but that was a significant improvement."

Harry was taken back by the words of praise but quickly found his voice. "Why that memory?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You were looking for that particular innocuous memory. Why?" Harry asked again.

"No reason, Potter. I saw it on your first try and fixed on that to find. I didn't wish to be nauseated by you and Miss Weasley again." Snape's lip curled in distaste.

Harry let it drop and rubbed his aching head once more.

"Miss Granger? Shall we?" Snape grimaced.

"I don't want to," she said in a small voice.

The professor sighed. "Very well, we will try again next week. In the meantime, practice building a wall or emptying your mind. I will be able to tell if you have not tried. Your homework is to research the Killing Curse and write up all your findings on its origin.

Also, I want a scroll about old life debt magic. You may leave."

They didn't need to be told twice. Hermione and Harry grabbed there satchels and scrambled out without a backward glance.

It was only once they got to their private study rooms that Hermione realised she had forgotten her new book about Egypt.

"Damn it! I was going to read that tonight. I'm not going to ask for it back today; I can't face him now. I'll get it next lesson."

Snape sat at the desk in his now empty office, head in his hands, wishing the growing headache away. He got up to find a potion for it. Walking to the front of the desk, he stumbled on something.

"Bloody hell, that hurt!" He bent down to pick up the offending object, and examined the book he found. "Granger!" he snarled.

* * *

Towards the end of the week, Harry and Hermione were relieved to be having a day off to visit Diagon Alley. They needed to replenish their stores and have a good rest from studying.

Ron was to meet them for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, but there was a lot to get done before then. They needed extra potion ingredients from Slug & Jiggers Apothecary, and Hermione insisted that they could use some new textbooks from Flourish and Blotts. In addition to all the shopping, Harry had arranged to meet Draco Malfoy at the Hag's Head pub in Knockturn Alley. After all of that was finished, the pair agreed to return to the Leaky at one o'clock.

Hermione also decided to stop in at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, commenting, "I may not have a date for the ball, but I want to look like I should have."

Harry laughed and she waved cheerily and trotted off into the crowd of shoppers. He turned and made his way to the gloomy pathways of Knockturn Alley.

The occupants of the alley had changed little; it was still full of shifty-looking wizards and hideous old hags. No matter that the war had been won, dodgy characters dealing in dodgy things would always be about. Some places would always remain a little unsafe to walk at night, and he thought this ill reputed haven of suspicious shops to be one of them.

Wondering at the wisdom of agreeing to meet Malfoy on his terms, he reached into his pocket to make sure his wand was close at hand.

The outside of the Hag's Head looked very familiar. It was almost a replica of the Hog's Head pub in Hogsmeade; slightly dirty and murky with the smell of stale ale hanging in the air. Grey, stone walls ensconced a cavernous fireplace, pitiful flames flickering miserably in its dank midst. A hooded wizard was serving the few patrons in the bar, all of whom were staring at Harry.

"Potter?"

Harry turned around, and behind him was a tall, lanky wizard with a shock of white-blond hair. "Malfoy?" he replied.

The two viewed each other warily, both tinkering with the wands in their pockets until Malfoy waved towards two uncomfortable-looking chairs near the fireplace. "Shall we sit, Potter?

"Ok." Harry sat in the seat he was gestured towards.

"Do you want a drink?"

Harry was somewhat taken back by this interest in his personal wellbeing and just stammered, "W-well, umm, maybe a butterbeer?"

Malfoy uttered his usual derisive laugh. "I'm afraid we are in the wrong establishment for lighter refreshment. It's ale or firewiskey."

"It's a bit early for firewiskey, Malfoy. If I've got to have something, I will have a half-pint of ale, thank you."

Harry really didn't fancy ale either, but didn't want to draw attention to himself. The wizard behind the bar looked like he would take it none too kindly if a customer sat by his fire, on his seats, ordering nothing.

"Perry," Malfoy called, "one firewiskey and a pint of ale."

Perry, the wizard by the bar, seemed to find nothing amiss with firewiskey being ordered before noon.

Harry ignored the fact that Malfoy had ordered him a full pint and questioned his choice of beverage. "Why the hard stuff, Malfoy?"

"Why the hell not, Potter?" Malfoy snapped back, his deceptively angelic face appearing furious for a moment.

"Well, this is a good start. What did you want from me again?"

The barman slapped a battered tankard down in front of Harry and some of the contents slopped onto the table to join numerous other spills and stains. He cautiously took a sip and shuddered faintly at the bitter taste and the malted yeast smells accompanying it. Grimacing, he put the sticky cup back down.

Malfoy sneered and tossed his drink back in one go, motioning to the barman for a refill. "It's been a rough week, Potter. I don't expect you to care, not after all that's happened. I don't want you to care, I just need your help, and I'm relying on your good nature. The same nature that tried to save Crabbe even after he tried to kill the Mu- Granger girl. The same nature that saved my life even though we've hated each other since the age of eleven. I want you to know I did try to help you once, at my home when the snatchers caught you. When they asked if it was you, I said I didn't know. Of course, I recognised all of you. Does that count for anything?"

Harry accepted this information and said, "Go on."

"My mother is missing, and nobody is taking it seriously. I've been to the Ministry; they've checked the magical death register. I know she's alive, but I don't know where she is." Malfoy took another shot of the strong alcohol.

"Maybe she's just left home; mothers do sometimes. Did she row with your dad?"

"Everybody is asking that. Yes, they fell out. She's found all the interrogations and the loss of our social position hard to bear. She has blamed my father for his association with… You-Know-Who." He shivered at the thought of his dead master.

"He's dead. You can say his name," Harry said in a slightly disparaging tone.

"I will never say his name!"

"Well, you have your answer. Your mum's walked out on your dad." Harry tentatively tried his pint again only to push it away in distaste.

"She wouldn't leave me!" Malfoy almost wailed.

"Sure she would, you would remind her of her husband. Of course she would leave you." Harry was shocked at how whiny his childhood nemesis sounded, like a spoilt four year old.

"She wouldn't, no, she wouldn't... Whatever you think of me, Potter, I love my mother. Most of the things I've done in my life were for her, to make her proud, to protect her… and she loved me, she did... She betrayed the Dark Lord for me."

Malfoy's voice broke and to Harry's horror, he began crying right there in the pub. He had seen him cry before but never in a public place. With his hands covering his face, he was letting out loud, rasping breaths, trying to regain control and failing.

"Draco… I'm sorry, I really am, but stop it now; it won't help your mum. I was being spiteful. I'm sure she wouldn't leave you unless she had to. You've had too much firewhiskey. I got a bit emotional on it the other day, too! People are looking and I know you don't want that. Don't make me slap you, Draco."

Malfoy was rocking slightly and his blond hair fell over the fingers covering his eyes. He scoffed through a sob, "Just try it, Potter."

Harry laughed uneasily and cast a Muffliato charm around them. "At least no one can hear you now. How are you so sure that something bad has happened to your mother?"

He dried his face on his sleeve like an overgrown child and took a deep breath. "I saw her walking through the gardens of our manor. My mother wasn't dressed for travel, and she was being followed by a fox, a magical fox that was almost golden in colour. I disapparated to warn her and they were both gone. We had arranged to meet for dinner and she never showed up. I know it was that fox. I don't know why or how, but it took her."

Harry was about to tell Malfoy that he must have imagined it, when he thought about the prophecy and the fox.

'The fox does protect safe and sound,' he thought. "Oh no, Luna, I really hoped you were just batty. Clearly, this isn't going away," he said aloud to himself.

"What was that? What's Looney got to do with my mother? Are you going to help me or not, Potter?"

"Yes, I will help you if... you call me Harry."

Malfoy glared at him malevolently. "Why? We're not friends."

"Nope, but I've called you Draco today and you can show me some common courtesy, too."

Malfoy remained silent.

Harry sighed. "Forget it. I will help you if I can. I have a lead already, and I do believe you. I don't think Mrs. Malfoy would leave you. She whispered to me when I was pretending to be dead. Her concern was all for your wellbeing, she wanted to know if you were alive."

Malfoy looked at him with relief showing on his tearstained face. "Thank you, Harry."

He smiled a little in response. "Ok Draco, go home and sleep it off. Use the floo network. Don't apparate, you will splinch yourself; you're half-cut. I will be in touch. Let me know if you have any new information."

The young Malfoy heir nodded and struggled to his feet. Gingerly, he shook Harry's hand and then stumbled slightly as he made for the fireplace.

Harry grabbed his arm to steady him and called over to the bartender. "Has my, err... friend paid?" He cringed at the words, but he could hardly ask if his enemy had coughed up the galleons.

Perry nodded mutely.

"Good. We are going to use your floo. Is it open?"

Perry nodded again with a noncommittal grunt.

Harry assisted Malfoy to the hearth and watched him disappear to Malfoy Manor. Deciding to floo to the Leaky Cauldron, he stepped into the now empty grate, threw the powder, and spoke his destination.

The Leaky Cauldron was a lot busier than the Hag's Head. Harry found an unoccupied corner and took a seat after ordering a butterbeer. When his drink arrived, he sipped gratefully at the sweet, frothy beverage, pondering on the weird interaction with Draco Malfoy.

"Hey, Harry! Wake up. You daydreaming? Budge over, mate."

Harry budged over to make room for his loud interrupter. "No, not daydreaming; thinking. You should try it sometime."

"Shut up, you git, and buy me a drink." Ron grinned happily.

"You're the worker! Get me a drink."

"You've got one. Where's Hermione?"

"She's on her way. She's buying sexy robes, apparently."

"Who's the lucky wizard?" Ron asked, surprised at his small lurch of jealousy. He shrugged it off.

"She doesn't know yet. She's hoping to attract one, I think." Harry took another deep draught of his drink.

"Wow, can't wait to see that dress then."

"What dress, Ronald?" Hermione joined the two young men.

"Erm… my mum's new dress robes for the ball."

"Mummy issues… You should get a psychiatric assessment, Ron." She squeezed in between them and summoned a menu.

The happy group ordered their food and chatted together. Harry told them about the meeting with Malfoy, and they were both disconcerted about the connection with the prophecy.

After a brief lull in their conversation, Ron started to tell them about his day. "I was interviewed earlier by the Ministry. There has been a theft."

"A theft!" exclaimed Harry and Hermione in unison.

"Yep, a theft! You will never guess what was stolen... Barty Crouch Jr.'s chest, the one he hid Mad-Eye Moody in. It had been stored in the Magical Artefacts Department. All of the departments have been questioned, including mine, and nobody can explain it."

"Who would want Barty's chest?"

* * *

Mist hovered above the mossy forest floor. Tiny pinpricks of light tried to perforate the gloom clinging to the sinister and brooding trees, which leaned towards the clearing like eavesdropping guards. A fitting meeting place for dark plans.

"My Master, the Dark Lord will honour you. I humbly beseech you to speak in my favour when he returns by your hand."

The beautiful woman was bent low in the pervasive haze, showing deference to Rabastan.

"If you deliver on your promises, I'm willing to provide you sanctuary from the Dark Lord's anger. I may be able to intercede on your behalf." Rabastan motioned for her to rise up.

"What news have you?" he questioned.

"The Ministry are unaware of our plans, but they do know that a prophecy has been made. However, the outcome is not definite and I think we are concerned in this prophecy. I have since located two of the Hallows. The other will be more difficult as Potter possesses the Cloak of Invisibility. I have made plans to steal this; you can leave it in my care. The wand will take planning with its current place in Dumbledore's tomb; I'm sure it will be magically guarded. The Stone is lost in the forest… It will be very possible to reunite them."

"You have done well, Narcissa. I will entrust the cloak's theft to you. We need to search the forest. Can we 'Accio' the Stone?"

"No, Master, it is protected against magical summoning. It may be retrieved by special incantations but I know not what they are. We will have to retrace Potter's steps. He dropped it in the forest during the battle at Hogwarts," Narcissa explained.

"We will begin searching for it immediately. As for the wards placed on the tomb, we need to find out what they are." Rabastan stroked his stubbled chin thoughtfully.

"I think Severus Snape would have something to do with any protective spells set. I will endeavour to find out."

"What have you done with the muggle?" he asked suddenly.

"I have hidden him away. He's safe, for now." Narcissa smiled coldly.

"What's the point? Just kill him! Or do you keep him for some unspoken pleasure of your own?" Irritation crept into his voice as he glared at her.

"My intentions will be clearly seen soon, and then you will understand. We can work easily without suspicion and investigations by the Ministry. His death would hamper that," she replied evenly.

"I see. I hope you are correct in this assumption. Get away now, and go back to your lapdog." He started to walk away, the fog swirling around the hem of his robes.

Narcissa lightly stepped after him and touched his arm. "Who do you go home to, Master?

He halted like he had been stung. "What business is it of yours?"

"None at all. Simply curiosity… Do you even like women?" She asked boldly, moving closer to him.

"Enough! Leave! You don't affect me like you do my pathetic brother." He pushed her away roughly and disapparated.

"No, power is your mistress and your downfall," Narcissa spoke aloud.

She twirled in the mist and vanished.

* * *

Professor Snape lazily turned the pages of Hermione's forgotten book. He had been entranced by the stories of ancient Egypt and stunned to read the tale of Anubis and the Resurrection Stone.

"Sekhen," he mused, his husky drawl filled with longing for such an object. This was what could be out there in the forest, forgotten in the undergrowth.

His mind flitted back to the fable, and he puzzled over Jambres and the wand taken from him. 'If Anubis was Death, then could that wand have been the unbeatable wand? The Deathstick? …No, it was entwined with a snake. The wand in Potter's memory was carved with elderberries… The Elder Wand. Dumbledore's wand,' he realised with a shock. 'Could the wand reinvent itself over the years? Or could the snake have been a wand-casing, much like Lucius used?'

Whichever it was, the possibility remained; the wand from Egyptian legend could indeed be the Elder Wand.

His thoughts went back to Lily and what the Resurrection Stone could mean for her. His black eyes grew even darker in yearning and he reached for his familiar friend, the decanter.

A knock at the door shook him out of his reverie. 'Inconvenient,' he thought, 'it's past nine. Even Minerva doesn't call after school hours; she knows better.' Grimly, he walked to the door and flung it open aggressively.

Hermione gasped, taken back by the abrupt force of the door being wrenched from its frame. The professor looked disheveled, his lank hair falling over his face with wisps of it caught at the corners of his mouth. His robes were bunched up and creased.

'He looks like a demonic vicar,' she reflected.

"Miss Granger, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, professor, but... Professor, have you been drinking?" Hermione stammered slightly.

"Yes, Granger, I have. It is nine o'clock and I am not teaching. I am in my own rooms and I am drinking. Send for the guards of Azkaban! I'm obviously not fit to be in your presence!" He stalked away from her and sat back down in his armchair by the fire.

Hermione hovered by the doorframe nervously.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, come in! Shut the door behind you!" Snape barked impatiently.

She did as directed and walked over to stand at a reasonable distance from him.

"Sit down. Will you join me in the demon drink, Granger? You're of age, are you not?"

"Are you joking, sir?" Hermione responded hesitantly.

"In all our years of forced contact, have I ever made a joke?"

"Sarcasm and spite aside, no, sir."

"Well, I'm not going to start now, am I? Do you want a drink?"

"No, sir. I came for my book. I left it here, and I don't want to force my presence on you any more than necessary." Noticing the book on the arm of the chair, she exclaimed indignantly, "You've been reading it! You could have brought it back to me. You must have known it was mine."

"My apologies, I had nothing to read and that seemed as good as anything else. It has been… enlightening. Granger, who gave it to you? And for god's sake, sit down!"

Hermione quickly slumped into the leather armchair opposite of him. "I got it by owl post. The sender didn't sign it."

"Interesting... Here, have it back." Snape levitated the book across to her lap, displaying his wandless, silent magic.

He flicked his head irritably, clearing his face of the stray strands of hair. Leaning over to the small table at the side of his chair, he poured himself another glass of whiskey, conjured a second glass, and filled that too. He put the decanter down and his long fingers caressed the cut crystal as he replaced the stopper. His fingernails shone like the crystal itself as they curled around the heavy glass. He tossed the shot back and refilled it once more.

Hermione shook herself slightly. 'Why am I staring at a drunken, old man's hands?' she wondered, ill at ease.

A glass levitated towards her. Raising her eyebrows at the sight of the smoky amber liquid, she caught it deftly from the air. "I said I didn't require a drink, Professor."

"Drink it anyway. It's not poisoned."

She decided that she would be pushing her luck to refuse. 'I've got my book, so why isn't he throwing me out?' she thought. 'He's drunk, that's why.' Taking a sip of the whiskey, she glanced across at the professor.

"Yes, Granger, you're lucky I'm drinking. Anyone calling on my door after school hours would usually find themselves cursed. Fortunately for you, alcohol gives me near infinite patience for stupidity. I realise now that I should spend most of my classes intoxicated."

Hermione snorted into her glass. "I'm sure the Ministry would love that. Why is it, professor, that since the war, all the men in my life have an obsession with this revolting stuff?" She swirled the liquid around contemptuously.

"I take it the men in your life refer to Potter and Weasley? Don't presume that because you sat in my office, I fall under that statement."

She sighed. "Yes, professor, I hate you, you despise me. It's all academic. In the words of Jane Austin's Mr. Darcy, your good opinion, once lost is lost for ever…"

"Miss Granger, you can not lose what you never had. Still, I'm surprised that our resident know-it-all has time for muggle fiction."

Hermione glared at him.

"In answer to your question, presuming it is not your company that has turned your friends to..." he paused and looked into his own glass, "this revolting stuff, I imagine it is because they are cowards." He finished his drink in a single swallow at the completion of his words.

"They most certainly are not cowards!"

"The man who gets drunk in peacetime is a coward. The man who gets drunk in wartime goes on being a coward." Snape refilled his glass.

"Why?"

"Because when the battle is over, some are left with nothing to fight for. And if you can't cope with that knowledge of yourself and the consequence of war, then you are a coward who drinks to pretend you like your life."

"What about you, sir? You're drinking. Are you a coward?" Hermione tentatively looked towards Professor Snape.

"I wanted to die in the Shrieking Shack, Granger. What do you think?"

"I think you are the bravest man I've ever met." Her response was immediate and the consequences unthought-of.

Inside, he reeled slightly from this admission from his student. 'God, I've drank too much. Why am I having a conversation with this aggravating girl?' he thought in exasperation.

"Well, you haven't met many men, have you? Professor McGonagall said I must thank you for saving my life. That is why I didn't ask you to leave once you had retrieved your book… I do thank you, but I still wish you hadn't interfered, and I still wish I had died. If you ever repeat this conversation, Granger, I will hex your bushy hair off permanently! You can go now. If it makes you feel easier, put it down to a drunken professor's senility... Tell no one!" He waved his hand to the door.

"Unfortunately, Professor, a drunken man's words are a sober man's thoughts… but I won't reveal your thoughts to anyone."

"Get out!" he shouted, his patience seemingly at an end.

Hermione scuttled out. "See you tomorrow, Professor."

The door magically slammed shut behind her.


	13. Be quiet, Be still

"We need to search the forest and retrace Potter's movements during the last battle." Rabastan turned to his brother. "Your… harlot tells me that the stone was lost just before Potter met with the Dark Lord in the Forbidden Forest. We need to look for it. I suggest we go tonight."

Rodolphus was white with rage and he jabbed his brother hard with his wand. Sparks flew from the tip, ignited by his fury. "What gives you the right to speak to me like I'm the dirt under your feet? Are you jealous of me, brother? Do you want Narcissa?" his voice quivered with anger.

"I am your superior in age, ability, and intellect. You wish to continue the Dark Lords work? Then you accept that. As for Narcissa… Pah! Are you blind? She is not to be trusted completely. Why would she turn to you, brother? Why leave her rich and elegant husband for a dirty, stocky wizard who was the plaything of Bellatrix? If I wanted Narcissa, I could have her. At the moment... Well, I think anyone could have her... if… they have something she needs."

A guttural scream resonated around the tiny sitting room. Wand forgotten, Rodolphus launched himself onto Rabastan, knocking him over with his body weight. His fists clenched to fight and his pent-up aggression caused him to punch wildly without aim, all the while screaming obscenities and spitting with the force of his words.

"Petrificus Totalis." The spell was swift and calm from Rabastan's mouth.

Rodolphus' arms and legs snapped together, his body going rigid and straight, resting heavily across Rabastan. Rabastan shoved him off and got to his feet, dusted his clothes down, and straightened his robes. Moving over to his brother's paralysed bulk, he viciously kicked him in the back.

"Still having tantrums, brother? Your wand was in your hand and yet you brawl like a muggle! You're pathetic." Rabastan rolled his brother over with his toe and bent down to look into his furious face. "Biting the hand that feeds you? Think, brother, what would you do without me?

Tears streamed unbidden down Rodolphus' immobile features, while he could do nothing, not even blink them away to stop the flow.

"Brother... brother, are you still a child to cry over the taunts of your sibling? And I had wanted to tell you about my ideas for your revenge on Molly Weasley. Our companions are arriving any moment to hear about it. Do you want them to find you paralysed by my hand and crying like a babe? Ahhh, no, you can't answer, can you? I'm going to give you back the use of your limbs, Rodolphus, and if you use any of them to threaten my person, I will cruciate you... Finite!"

Rodolphus rolled over, hiding his face against the floor.

"Get up. Let's not speak of this again. See what a good brother I am to you? Come here."

Rodolphus reluctantly got to his knees and slowly pulled himself together. Standing, he faced his brother but did not look him in the eye.

Rabastan took him by his shoulders and shook him slightly. "Nobody loves you more than I. Play with Cissy by all means, but do not trust her. Trust me! I will bring you what you desire; I will get you your revenge." He pulled his brother into a manly embrace, dominating him as was his lifelong habit.

At the sound of new arrivals to the house, Rabastan pushed his brother to one side. "Our brethren arrive. Good... Let's begin," he breathed in an undertone.

"Narcissa is going to steal the cloak, and we are left with the task of finding the stone. I know that the last place Potter had it in his possession was by the Acromantulas' hollow. We must start our search there." Rabastan looked round at his companions to gauge their reactions.

"Have the Acromantulas returned to the nest or did the Dark Lord wipe them out?" Dolohov inquired.

"I don't know for sure, but we will need to be prepared for them," Rabastan answered.

"What of the wand?" Rookwood directed his question to the small group.

"It is in Dumbledore's tomb, protected by cursed wards, I think." Rabastan glanced over at his brother. "The curse will be strong, made by one of the Order members. Narcissa thought maybe the traitor Snape would have set them. On reflection, I don't think this is possible. The wand was placed back in the tomb while Snape was still incapacitated. So, who is in the Order that has sufficient knowledge of curses to protect such a valued item?" He looked over the group again, his heavy-lidded eyes pausing on his brother, who was twitching slightly.

"Bill Weasley," Rodolphus snarled.

"Bill Weasley, the curse-breaker," confirmed Rabastan.

"How do we get his assistance, Master?" Macnair hesitantly joined the conversation.

"Torture... Walden, how else do we make these blood traitors talk?"

"Yes, but his cottage is still highly protected. He floos directly to Gringotts for work, and the bank had even better protection! How do we get him? We couldn't even get to his brainless brother without attracting attention; that's why Narcissa dealt with that." Dolohov spoke thoughtfully, trying to puzzle out how to get his hands on the Weasley's eldest son.

"The Heroes' Ball will be the time. We may have to visit our old friend Lucius Malfoy; he still has ways and means to get in. The idiots may even still have the Vanishing Cabinets in operation. Security at Hogwarts has slipped since the war. But first the stone! Let's ready ourselves and go within the hour."

Returning from defense lessons with Professor Snape, Harry and Hermione flopped onto the armchairs in their Hogwarts sitting room.

"Ouch, he's not bad for an old man," Harry remarked, rubbing at his temples.

"He's not that old, Harry, but you're right that he's not bad. I don't think we can beat him in a duel, but it would be great if we could." Hermione sighed in relief as she massaged her shoulder on the spot Snape had hexed.

"The man can fly! He can make himself practically invisible. Had he been on Voldemort's side in the war, we would have lost for sure."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "He's just one big flash of black and everything's stunned," she added.

"You sound impressed."

"I am, and so are you."

"I suppose so. I have to admit, back when we were kids, the black bat dueling with Lockhart was the only time I ever liked him," Harry admitted very grudgingly.

"How did you get on with the homework he set?"

"I haven't, the Headmistress has had me too busy. Have you done it? Sorry, stupid question, of course you have."

"Do you want my notes?"

"You're a star! What would I do without you?" he said, smiling over at her.

"You'd fail your exams," she responded grimly. "I found something unusual about the incantation for the Killing Curse. I assumed it meant 'die now' or something to that effect, but the ancient language translates it as... 'may you die'? It's like some kind of polite request. That's odd, isn't it? Kind of indicates that you might not die after such a curse."

"That is odd, but we know there's no getting out of that curse," Harry replied.

"I know, but it's still strange. I've been reading that Egyptian book I was given. Did you know that the curse was used back in ancient Egypt? I only have the hieroglyph for it, but it means the same thing. It was a plea to Anubis to kill ones enemies magically; according to legend, he rarely complied. The interesting thing is that the Egyptians believed that parts of you die at different times and that your life and afterlife is broken up into many parts. They seemed to believe that if some of those pieces were reunited, you could escape death in some way, or in the case of magical death, return from it. At the reuniting of certain elements of the soul, the Akh, which means 'magically effective one', would animate during a ritual called the se-akh, 'to make a dead person into a living akh'. The thing is, I'm still not sure what an Akh is. But I was interested about the origins of the Avada Kedarvra." Hermione started to gather notes together for him.

Harry smiled sadly at her. "It is interesting, but it's all myth, 'Mione. "

"I know that, but it's still fascinating. If it was true and the ancient Egyptians did have this kind of control over death, where are they now? They would currently be a world power, but they've gone. Just like in that poem by Shelly;

I met a traveller from an antique land  
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone  
Stand in the desart. Near them, on the sand,  
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,  
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,  
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read  
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,  
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:  
And on the pedestal these words appear:  
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:  
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"  
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay  
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare  
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

You can see it can't you? the ruins of great empires."

"You're wasting your time chanting poetry at me! I've got no artistic soul. I'm glad you enjoy it, though. Anyway, I'm going to see if I can have a chat with Ron before I turn in. Are you coming?"

"I've got to collect some potion ingredients for Professor Slughorn, so I'm off to see Hagrid." She reached for her traveling robes and gathered her specimen jars.

"Ok, see you tomorrow."

They both went their separate ways, Harry to Grimmauld Place and Hermione towards Hagrid's hut.

Hermione stood impatiently outside the gamekeeper's lodge. 'He's forgotten,' she thought in frustration. She glanced over towards the Forbidden Forest; it was shadowy in the twilight.

'Oh bother it, I need Acromantula webs now!' Indecisive, she peered into the forest again. 'I'll get it myself. Hagrid's said they don't live there since the war. I'm a big girl now and I can get my own potion ingredients.'

Setting off resolutely into the forest, she said, "Point me," while holding her wand flat against her palm. It spun and came to a rest pointing east. "Lumos." Her wand lit up and off she went, trusting in its directions to the Acromantula nest.

She didn't get very far before she saw a familiar figure in the distance that seemed to blend in with the dark surroundings. Professor Snape was out for a stroll in the moonlight.

'Brilliant, just what I need.' She decided to stand still and wait for him to disappear, but as she moved to set her feet in a steadier stance, she wobbled and fell painfully on her ankle. Yelling out before she could stop herself, Hermione closed her eyes and tried to prepare for the inevitable.

"Miss Granger, what are you doing in the Forbidden Forest?"

She kept her eyes tightly closed. "Collecting Slughorn's potion ingredients. And you, sir?"

"And I? The Forest is not forbidden to me, Granger!" he snapped.

"No sir, and I don't believe it is to me anymore as well, but we could clarify the matter with Professor McGonagall."

"Open your eyes, you silly girl! The war is over but this forest remains dangerous. Drawing attention to yourself by falling over your own feet and shouting is still likely to get you killed. With your eyes shut, you won't even know what killed you, either."

Hermione finally opened her eyes and stared up at her dark and brooding professor. "Oh, I'm pretty sure it would be you, sir."

Smirking in response, he drawled, "If I was going to kill you, I would have done so years ago."

He reached down his hand to help her up and she clasped onto it automatically, surprised at the gesture. She pulled herself up, gasping at the pain in her ankle. Snape made to let go of her at the same time she stumbled, but managed to catch her and keep her steady as he applied a cushioning charm to her foot.

"I'm sorry, my expertise is potions but I do know that it isn't broken, merely a sprain. You will require a visit to Madam Pomfrey."

"It's fine, thank you." Hermione straightened herself up and let go of his arm.

"What are you collecting?"

"Acromantula webs."

"We are close, so we may as well gather them now. In the future, I must insist that you do not go wandering about the forest unaccompanied."

Hermione could hardly believe she was being let off so lightly. Following her wand again, they made their way through the undergrowth and she tried to hide her slight limp lest the professor should tell her to go back. Soon they were at the hollow. Webs draped across the trees, blowing in the breeze and shimmering in the watery moonlight. The gossamer strands appeared as ghostly curtains, waving to and fro, and giving the hollow a haunted, surreal air.

Hermione grabbed what she needed, placed her samples in the jars, and glanced up at Snape, who was prowling the peripheries of the clearing and scowling down at the floor.

Hermione watched him for a moment. 'He looks as though he's dropped something.' Walking over to him, she called, "Have you lost something, sir? Can I help you find whatever it is?"

Snape looked up sharply. "No, I have not lost anything. Let's get you back to the castle now."

Hermione had the feeling that as soon as she was back at Hogwarts, he would return to the forest. 'What is he after?' she wondered.

Together, they walked silently away from the hollow. Hermione itched to ask him what he had been doing, but she refrained.

Abruptly, Snape stopped and listened.

"CRACK"

Hermione heard the thunderous noise too. Snape suddenly clamped his hand across her mouth and propelled her back against a large oak tree. Pushing her nearly flat against the rough bark, he whispered in her ear, "Be quiet, be still. Something is here and I can feel dark magic. I am going to remove my hand; do not make a sound.

Dropping his hand to his side, he uttered a low incantation and his body shimmered, slowly fading from view. His cloak enveloped her and protected her with the same magic. Hermione was uncomfortably aware of her pounding heart as she strained to hear anything more from within the now silent forest. Pushed so close together and covered by his outer garments, she could smell her professor's vocation on him; herbs and spices clinging to a gentle smoky scent. Worryingly, she could smell the library too, that old parchment smell.

'Oh my god, did I just sniff Snape?" Once again, she closed her eyes in panic.

So intent on finding out who had apparated to their location, Professor Snape hardly noticed the woman he had pinned against the tree.

Then the voices began. "This is beyond stupid! If it was this easy to find, someone would have found it already!"

"Stop moaning, Dolohov, and keep looking. It has to be here somewhere."

Hermione and Professor Snape listened in shock as the speakers drew closer and closer.

Hermione felt a little shiver of terror run through her. 'Dolohov… he killed Remus,' she thought and a tear rolled down her face. Uncomfortable with her head scraping on the gnarled oak bark, she made the decision to lean forward and rest it on Snape's shoulder. She felt him tense up and knew that if he was at liberty to move and shout, he would have done both.

They continued listening to the Death Eaters' conversation.

"Why can't we just summon it again, Augustus?"

"It doesn't respond, apparently. Rabastan thinks it's not actually called the Resurrection Stone and that's why we can't summon it."

"Well, this is ridiculous," muttered Macnair

"It was round here that Potter fell, so just get to searching," hissed Rodolphus.

Hermione felt her foot start to cramp and knew she would fall if she didn't take action. She gritted her teeth and put her arm around the professor's waist to keep her steady. All the time keeping her head in his shoulder, she could imagine the look on his face.

Snape didn't know what to do. Unable to move, he couldn't simply shake her off, but obviously, if she felt the need to cling on to her vile and ageing former Potions Master... her foot must be damaged.

His mind was doing cartwheels anyway. 'The Resurrection Stone is here, and I know its name,' he thought, itching to try a summoning charm.

"Think I've found something here!" shouted Dolohov.

Hermione lifted her head at these words and looked at Snape in alarm; the Death Eaters could not be allowed to have such a thing in their possession.

As the others hurried over to Dolohov, Professor Snape lost his self-control. He whipped out his wand and said, "Accio Sekhen," in a low, husky growl.

The stone flew up from the soil and right past Dolohov, straight into the professor's hand.

The Death Eaters spun round, yelling in rage. Dolohov quickly cast an anti-disapparition jinx just as Snape tried to disapparate with Hermione.

"Damn it," he muttered. "Keep still," he ordered softly to her.

"Separate and find the intruder! Kill if you have to!" screamed Rodolphus.

Hermione could feel her heartbeat rocketing and she wondered if Snape could feel it too. His body was tense against hers, but he appeared calm otherwise, with no desperate heartbeat, no signs of panic. She could feel his warm breath against her ear as he whispered that they may need to run out of the range of the jinx. She nodded in understanding.

As the voices moved further away, Snape drew back from Hermione and pushed her arms off his waist in relief. "Now," he said quietly.

They turned and ran. Despite the silencing charm Hermione had cast, the Death Eaters heard the retreat.

"Over there!" Rodolphus howled.

Jets of red light shot out towards the running figures from four wands.

"Who is it?" shouted Rookwood

"Don't know. They are under a Disillusionment Charm of some sort. Just hazy figures," panted Macnair as he dashed after them.

Snape spun around mid-flight and uttered, "Stupify." Red light streamed out and knocked Rookwood to the ground.

Hermione just kept running, her foot in agony, the undergrowth and brambles tearing at her robes as she plowed on.

Flashes of light, hisses, bangs, and pops were going off all around them. The crackle of twigs underfoot, heavy panting breaths, and screamed curses all mingled in the air with every footfall, reverberating like a drum and echoing the pounding in Hermione's chest. Slightly back from her, Snape was reeling off curse after curse behind him as he too plunged through the forest.

Just when Hermione felt like she couldn't move anymore, the edge of the forest came into view. Renewing her efforts, she raced to the finish line. More bangs, more light, the smell of burning wood, and branches fell from above.

"Protego!" she shouted and continued running almost blindly forward.

"Sectumsempra!"

She barely registered the curse as she tripped on a root and flew across the forest floor, her outstretched arm just making it out from the trees. As she looked up, she could see Hagrid's hut, and then she saw a golden fox running towards her. At the same time, she heard a roar of rage, and realised that the blood pooling around her was her own.

Swift, deft hands scooped her up and the running resumed.

"Alohamora!" The door of the hut burst open.

At the edge of the forest, screams of fury could be heard and then the familiar "cracks".

"Hagrid!" Snape shouted. No answer came, and he barged into the hut with his heavy burden. "Damn that buffoon! Always about until the one occasion I want him to be! Expecto Patronum! Get McGonagall." Fleetingly, he wondered why his patronus looked different as it bounced away.

Then he turned his head to the young woman bleeding in his arms and collapsed to the floor, still clutching onto her. He withdrew his wand and removed some of her many layers of clothing.

"Vulnera Sanentur...Vulnera Sanentur... Vulnera Sanentur," he chanted as he traced the wounds with his wand.

The fox remained outside the hut, looking on. 


	14. Saving Hermione again!

The fox stealthily made its way to the hut by the forest and positioned itself to watch through the slightly ajar door.

On the floor was a heap of black robes. In the candlelight, some shapes were indistinguishable, but the flash of pale hands accompanied by whispered incantations showed the pile of dark fabric to be enshrouding a human. The inanimate portion of the bundle was drawing all the fox's attention. Its sharp ears twitched to catch sounds of life. At the same time, the material rose up straighter and a face that had been hidden appeared, pallid and distraught, but with black eyes that glittered with malice.

Anyone looking on would think this man was trying to murder the prostrate girl sprawled across his lap; his features were contorted with hate.

The fox continued to watch as Severus Snape exclaimed, "My own bloody spell! How dare he use it, the filthy toadeater! Come on, Granger, fight this…"

He looked back down at her, again wondering how long it would take for help to arrive when the weight in his arms suddenly shifted. The girl's face flinched and she gasped out a short sentence with her eyes still tightly shut. Relief turned to shock as Snape registered her plea.

"Don't die, Severus, don't leave."

Despite how weak she was, Snape shoved her off his legs like she was poisonous and scooted to the opposite side of the room.

The fox pushed the door open and walked to the twitching girl on the floor. Snape froze, torn on whether he should shoo it away, and puzzled over what the creature wanted. His intuition, so reliable in the past, told him it meant no harm.

The fox stared at Granger, and then nuzzled at her neck. On guard, Snape observed this with his head tilted to one side and his wand pointing at the animal, poised to counter at any sign of attack.

'It is searching for something,' he thought.

The fox came away from her neck and licked her cheek gently. Turning around, the golden apparition gazed into Snape's eyes and growled menacingly, then vanished.

Professor Snape staggered slightly against the wall. 'What in Merlin's name was that? Did it really have nine tails?' Wondering if Rabastan had cursed his brain, he shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind.

A groan roused him from his thinking and he approached Granger cautiously, willing her to make no more inappropriate, coma-induced comments. He realised ruefully that he had pushed her off of his person into a most unpleasant arrangement on the ground.

"Where the hell is McGonagall?" he grumbled loudly to himself, incensed at the delay.

Kneeling back by his student, he began to lift her into a more comfortable position when the door swung open fully. Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey rushed in.

"Severus!" exclaimed the Headmistress.

"Well, who did you think it was, Minerva?" growled Snape, all too aware of the brunette head lolling against his shoulder.

"I don't know... That was not your patronus!" McGonagall answered him with suspicion.

"We can discuss that later. At the moment, the pressing matter is Hermione." Madam Pomfrey bustled over to the figures on the floor and crouched down beside them. She glanced at Snape with an eyebrow raised inquiringly.

"Sectumsempra," he hissed.

With this information, the witch ran her diagnostic tests and pronounced her well but weak from the loss of blood. "A blood replenisher and a pick-me-up, she will be fine. She's starting to come round, look." Rummaging in her medical pack, she withdrew the required potions.

"This is the second time you've been found in each other's arms, Severus." McGonagall looked pointedly at him.

Snape shuddered with annoyance and made to push Granger onto the floor again, but Pomfrey stopped him deftly.

"Let me give her the potions, professor, then I will relieve you of your unwelcome burden." The matron's tone was faintly scornful.

"I will remind you that I was near death and unconscious at the time of Granger's ministrations. They were certainly unwelcome."

"You're not unconscious now. Why did you not levitate her directly to the castle?"

Snape spluttered lightly. "I had no time! I had to escape from our attackers and perform the counter curse. I carried her to the first available sanctuary."

McGonagall arched an eyebrow. "Carried, Severus? Had you dropped your wand?"

"I am not sure what you are insinuating, Headmistress, but I do not appreciate it."

McGonagall narrowed her eyes at him, clearly skeptical.

"Are you done with the blasted girl yet?" he snapped at the healer.

"Yes, let's get her back to the castle," she said, ignoring Snape's tone. She packed up her supplies, and McGonagall raised her wand to levitate the reviving young woman.

"Minerva, she's going to be in shock and she's slowly regaining consciousness. Severus was quite correct to manually carry her. The shock of coming round while floating in midair would be immense and she may think she is still under attack." Pomfrey stood up with her bag and waited for the Headmistress to speak.

"Severus, will you carry her to the hospital wing?" McGonagall avoided his eye.

"I beg your pardon? And will I be accused of inappropriate behaviour if I acquiesce?" his acid tongue flicked out the words.

"Stop grousing and pick her up." She turned and headed for the door.

Feeling very weary, Snape shifted Granger's weight and made to stand, wobbling slightly under the exertion. Madam Pomfrey steadied him and helped pull him to his feet. Hitching the girl's body up to a manageable position, he nodded towards her discarded cloak. Pomfrey picked it up and placed it around her, tucking the cloth under his arms.

They left the hut and made their way to the school. The stars and moonlight lit up the castle walls like a beacon in the darkness. At the sight, Snape determinedly picked up his pace in the hope of getting back to his dungeon rooms as quickly as possible.

Hermione's eyes fluttered open.

'Urgh! What happened?' she thought groggily. The realisation that she was being carried was swiftly followed by the understanding of who was doing the carrying. The concept proved to be a bit much for her and she let out a faint but audible squeak.

Professor Snape's pale, disinterested countenance looked down at her. "I suggest, Miss Granger, that you close your eyes. This will make your situation, and mine, more tolerable." With that, he turned his face resolutely to the castle looming above them and once again quickened his stride.

Hermione felt frail and fatigued to the bone. As awkward as her position was, she relaxed into the professor's arms, turning her head to bury it against his chest.

"Don't get too comfortable!" Snape snarled.

Hermione ignored him and allowed the safety he provided to surround her, falling asleep to the sound of a beating heart.

Having dumped his slumbering burden off at the medical bay, he practically flew to his rooms, his cloak billowing out behind him. He gratefully sank into an armchair in his lounge. However, his peace was not for long as the fire glowed green and the voice of the Headmistress could be heard.

"Severus, I'm visiting in a moment with Albus' portrait. Please be ready."

Snape groaned. "For God's sake, leave me alone," he muttered

Professor McGonagall flooed directly to his rooms with the painting clutched in her hands.

"Minerva, how delightful it is to see you. Please step inside." He swept his hand across to gesture at the room.

"Why, Severus, ever the gentlemen. How charming of you to invite me."

"Cut the crap, Minerva."

"I will if you will, Severus."

"Ahhh... children, settle down," called the exasperated voice of the late Headmaster, emanating from the canvas.

Professor McGonagall placed the portrait on top of the mantelpiece and Albus Dumbledore twinkled down at them. Snape scowled fiercely back.

"Don't be like that, my boy. We only want to know what happened."

Snape sighed and recounted the evening to his companions. He left out the fact that the stone was currently in his pocket.

"Why were you in the forest?" asked McGonagall sharply.

"Why is that any of your business?"

"It isn't, Severus, and you do not need to answer. You are at liberty to wander at your will," Dumbledore assured him.

"Thank you, Albus," Snape replied stiffly.

"Do you think tonight's events are to do with the prophecy, Albus?" McGonagall turned to the portrait, curious to hear his thoughts.

The departed professor stroked his beard pensively. "Hmmm, yes, it would appear so. The fox certainly seems a key player."

The Headmistress visibly started in surprise. "Severus, I've just remembered... Was it definitely your patronus?"

"Yes, obviously."

"No, not obviously, it was different," she replied.

Snape thought back and there had been something strange about it, if he remembered correctly.

He took out his wand. "Expecto Patronum!" His voice rumbled throughout the room like the resonance of a double bass.

The silvery jets that shot out produced a beautiful fox that prowled around the room. Snape's expression fell for a second at the sight but he hid the emotion almost immediately.

"Severus, you will need to research our extensive library to find references to magical fox creatures. We need to see why your patronus has changed. Also, when our dear girl is fully recovered, you will need to question her about the fox."

Snape let out his usual snort.

"She's dear to me, Severus! And if I'm not much mistaken, she is to you too," said Dumbledore boldly.

He choked on his snort this time. "You are mistaken, Albus!"

"Don't forget, a wizard who saves another wizard's life has a magical bond with the one saved. I understand these old, powerful enchantments. Do you?" Dumbledore looked at Snape intently.

Professor McGonagall shifted uneasily.

"Yes, I'm fully aware of that particular ancient magic. I'm sure you will understand my dismay in having a life debt owed to a silly, overachieving girl. Happily, tonight I think I have paid my debt by saving her life. I believe the old magic will be satisfied and I will owe her nothing now." Snape smiled smugly.

"We will see. You may find you are in a chain of events you cannot control. It appears Hermione felt connected to you after saving your life. Maybe now you will feel that connection by saving hers." Dumbledore was equally smug.

"I think I've had enough of this conversation. Please allow me to escort you to the floo, Minerva. And don't forget to take that god-awful, babbling picture with you."

McGonagall scowled at Snape, grabbed the portrait, and flooed to her office.

The professor sank down into the chair once more, cast another patronus, and watched the fox in dismay.

His last link to Lily was gone.

With liquid suspiciously like tears swimming in his black eyes, he pulled the stone from his pocket and turned it over in his hand longingly. 


	15. Shades of Lily

___**Hi! Is anyone still reading this? If you have got this far Thank you,**_

_**its abit of a marathon now.**_

* * *

Hermione spent a night in the medical centre and she awoke to the voice of her friend once again.

"'Mione? Good morning."

"Morning, Harry." Hermione stretched, surprised by how well she felt after the injuries sustained during the previous day, and asked, "Do you know what happened?"

"Yes, I've been brought up to speed. Which Death Eater cursed you?"

"I didn't see. I honestly thought it would be all over when Voldemort died. Here we are now and I've been cursed with Sectumsempra. I saw Remus' murderer, too… It was horrible! I never thought we would fear for our lives again." She sniffed lightly.

"I know, I'm sorry. Did you figure out what they were after?"

"The Resurrection Stone," she whispered.

"My... my god, tell me they didn't find it," he stammered.

"I'm not sure. I think Professor Snape got there first, but I'm not sure." Hermione lowered her voice as Madam Pomfrey bustled in to check if she was well enough to leave the medical wing.

"You'll have to ask him, we need to know. There's only one thing the Death Eaters could want that stone for; to bring back Voldemort," Harry said, watching Pomfrey retreat into the office to fill in her notes.

"I'm not asking him!" Hermione sat bolt upright. "You ask him," she insisted.

"You embarrassed to see your knight in greasy armour?"

She blushed from neck to cheeks. "That's mean, Harry! Anyway, I don't know what you're talking about." She swung her legs over the side of the bed in preparation to leave.

"Sure you do. He carried you, Hermione, and that's just creepy. Did he lose his wand?" Harry raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"No, he didn't. I don't know why he bothered to carry me, but he saved my life and I'm grateful. He was very brave." Her fading blush returned.

"Did you like being carried, Hermione?" he teased.

"I was unconscious, you prat! Stop it, you're making me uncomfortable."

"You're uncomfortable? When Professor McGonagall told me about it, I gagged!" he exclaimed and laughed at her mortified expression.

"I don't understand what the big deal is. Why on earth did the Headmistress feel the need to tell you that?"

"Because it was weird."

"Be serious now, Harry. What's weird and worrying is that the prophecy is definitely going to be a problem. Luna's words cannot be ignored."

"I know," Harry quietly agreed.

* * *

On the Lonely Moors, huddled dark figures waited for the expected reaction to the loss of the stone. A howl of rage echoed across the desolate land.

"I want him dead! How dare that traitorous snake slither into my affairs! How did he know about the stone? How did he know how to summon it? He should be hiding under a rock like a worm! Does he not fear us at all?" Rabastan screamed his questions out at his cowering companions.

Narcissa stepped forward. "Severus Snape has always been underestimated by everyone. In reality, Severus could be considered the most powerful of the Dark Lord's followers. Unfortunately, under our master's tutelage, he has even gained in power. He can fly, read minds, and knows of the one type of magic the Dark Lord knew nothing of..."

"Is the word 'love' about to drop from your disdainful lips?"

The stately woman bravely looked straight into the eyes of the emaciated, outraged figure before her. "Love, Rabastan, is the most powerful emotion we know of. Severus had a black heart but it was not impenetrable; he allowed a sliver of light to enter it. What should have weakened him only made him stronger. It was this that helped to defeat the Dark Lord. Let us not underestimate this force again."

Rabastan stared menacingly at her and growled out, "What do you suggest then?"

"The prophecy stated that Severus will be tempted by a flower. He will want to use the stone. He will want to see Lily, his flower. I am going to make sure that he's tempted by another flower. The daffodil will bring you the stone, Rabastan."

"Go then and get it back... I will be grateful."

Narcissa disapparated immediately.

The rest of the Death Eaters began to disperse, leaving the two brothers alone.

"Do you trust her, brother?" Rodolphus asked hesitantly.

"I trust her to get the stone and the cloak. I do not trust her motives. The question is, do you? She's off now to throw herself at Severus Snape. Have you gotten used to sharing? Make sure she washes the grease off before you touch her next time."

"Sectum-"

"Expelliarmus!" was the swift and calm interruption. Rabastan caught his sibling's wand effortlessly and Rodolphus lurched forward. "Impedimenta!" was the next humiliating jinx cast.

Stopping dead in his tracks, Rodolphus spat out a tirade of insults directed at his brother.

Rabastan smiled sardonically. "It's like you're still five, throwing your little hissy fits. I haven't got time for this. I'm going to see Lucius Malfoy, for I need him to get us into the school. Are you coming? Do you want to tell him about the filthy things you've been doing to his wife? Can you withstand his cruciatus curse without soiling yourself?" He leered at his brother like a schoolyard bully stealing lunch money from a smaller boy.

Rodolphus spluttered and struggled as the jinx began to wear off. He calmed his breathing down enough to say, "Why... why... do you torment… me?

"Because you let me. You've always let me. I'm helping you! I want you to be worthy of me, worthy of the Dark Lord. You could be powerful but you allow your emotions to control you. When you can ignore my taunts, you will be fit for the cause. You are like a mouse allowing others to play with you. Bellatrix played with you. Narcissa is playing with you now, and when she's finished playing with you, you'll hide in your hole."

"At least I can get a woman to play with me!" spat back Rodolphus

Cold calculating laughter enveloped the ears. "Grow up, brother… Grow up and grow powerful. Here's you miserable little stick." He threw it at Rodolphus' feet.

Then he too was gone, disapparating with a loud crack. His brother stood shakily in place for a while before returning home to blot out all thought of his tormenting sibling.

* * *

Severus Snape sat at his desk marking scrolls of homework. Suddenly, he sat up straight and placed his quill to one side, stretched and sighed. It seemed incredible to him that he should be so distracted. Reaching across the table, he picked up a little black stone.

Holding it gingerly in his open palm, he mused to himself, 'Granger knows I've got it, and she will be here the moment she gets out of Pomfrey's grip. What shall I do with it?'

He closed his fingers slowly around the stone. Raising his now tightly clenched fist to his temple, he rubbed his hand from the bridge of his nose to his hairline, pushing away at the unpleasant contemplations of his mind. After a moment, he slowly brought his hand back down and opened it up. He looked at the innocuous little stone innocently resting in his grasp.

'Such a tiny thing, such a pretty thing. Did it really drive Cadmus Peverell to kill himself? Does it only bring back ghosts? Would a ghost suffice? How remarkable it seems that such an item could drive a person insane.'

"I'm already insane," he growled at the object. He gritted his teeth and turned the stone over in his palm once, twice, thrice...

The professor closed his eyes and waited. The magic made the hair on his body prickle in anticipation and he knew that it had worked.

He opened his eyes and murmured, "Lily?"

There was no answer from the woman who now stood in the room. Dark red hair curled onto her shoulders and the diaphanous gown wavered gently around her form. She glanced wildly around the room until her eyes settled on Snape.

Cautiously, he stood and walked towards the ephemeral vision. Bending slightly, he gazed into the green eyes that he loved so dearly, emerald green eyes that threatened tears.

"Lily... Don't be frightened, it's only me. I am sorry... I am so sorry. Please, please forgive me," he pleaded and reached out a tremulous white hand to stroke her hair, but she stepped back, leaving him to caress the air.

Snape fell to his knees in front of her, covering his face. He was the angst ridden, teenage boy again, begging for her friendship, begging for forgiveness for his thoughtless words. Only now, it was worse. He had added to that youthful misdemeanour, he knew he was unforgivable and yet he still groveled at her feet.

"What... can... I do? Please, Lily." His deep voice carefully enunciated words foreign to him and he closed his eyes, cringing at the pathetic picture he must pose.

Lily kneeled in front of him. "Severus? This isn't real. Open your eyes, Sev."

He opened his eyes to find her face so close to his.

"I forgive you. I trust you. I'm thankful that you watched over Harry and I beg of you to keep doing so. I'm not supposed to be here, Sev. I loved and love James, you know that."

He shook his head miserably in denial.

"I do, you know that. But this? This is wrong, Severus. You can't keep me here, it's not real. I'm merely a shade of Lily and it will drive you mad. I will always want James, but I do forgive you and I do love you, my first best friend." She leaned closer to him and kissed his troubled forehead.

It was just an image and not a true physical sensation; Snape only felt a ghostly chill on his skin.

"Let me go, Sev. Live your life," she encouraged gently.

"I have no life," he said bitterly.

"Then make one! You have forgiveness. Start again with a clear conscience and a heart full of light," the phantom urged.

"My heart will be empty... always. What is death like? Where do you go?"

Lily looked at him with alarm and her hands flicked lightly over his hair. He didn't feel it, but he pretended that he could. How he suddenly longed to be touched. Nobody touched him. From out of nowhere, the sight of Hermione Granger, holding him close in the Shrieking Shack came to his mind unbidden. He shook the unwanted image away.

"I can't tell you, Severus. This isn't the time for you, so don't do anything silly. But please let me go now. Drop the stone."

Snape stared at her sadly and finally managed to whisper, "Goodbye, Lily. Be at peace."

"Goodbye, Sev. Live in peace."

He shut his eyes once more and let the stone drop to the floor.

The specter of Lily disappeared.

After a moment's hesitation, he snatched up the Hallow and resolved to throw it in the Black Lake. Leaving his rooms in a flurry of robes, he practically flew through the corridors and across the Hogwarts grounds to the shore bordering the dark water. Looking out over the serene beauty of the lake, he forcibly calmed himself.

His arm rose to heave the stone and a strong hand grabbed onto his wrist from behind, halting his motion.

Spinning around with a growl, he saw the supposedly missing Malfoy matriarch grasping his arm. "Narcissa?"

"Yes, Severus, it is I." She removed her hand and let it fall gracefully to her side.

"Shall I contact your husband? I have heard he is… distraught."

"That is not my pressing need. Did the stone not work?" She smiled pleasantly at him.

"What do you know of the stone? How did you get here?" he snapped and tried to enter her mind. He broke in easily at first but all he could see was a fox darting about, hiding from him, and eluding him. "You… You're connected with that fox," he said harshly as he pulled out.

"Did you invade my mind without permission? That's very rude."

"I am rude, Narcissa. What game are you playing at? Keeping your presence hidden from the family you claim to care so greatly about, your only son, who I risked my life and soul for on your behalf!" he snarled and raised his wand to point menacingly at her heart. "Explain yourself!"

It was at that moment that he felt a pull on his own mind and images flooded through. The cloak wrapped around him, the stone in one hand, the wand in the other. He was the master of death! Lily was smiling at him, solid and in full body.

"Give me the stone, Severus. I will use it to find its companions. I will bring them to you and you will have complete power over death."

The words did not register to him consciously, but his subconscious allowed him to stretch his hand towards Narcissa and open his fingers to reveal the stone. The woman seized it and exited his mind so quickly that he yelled out in pain, staggering back and holding his head.

Narcissa put the stone in her mouth and disappeared.

In a flash, his wits returned and he realised he had been tricked, the Hallow stolen. She was a legilimens stronger than him and she had manipulated his mind, putting dreams in that he had not possessed. His peace was made with Lily and within minutes of his promise to continue to watch over her son, he had put him in jeopardy once again.

'How did she apparate through the wards of the school?' He remembered the visions in Narcissa's head and scowled in confusion. 'What in Merlin's name is going on? How was she able to force me to do that?'

Tired and miserable, he left the lake and made his way to his rooms.

'Should I tell Minerva?' he wondered. Once he entered his rooms, he decided to tell her later. He could cope with no more questions and interference presently.

"Accio firewhiskey!"

'And so, to the familiar drink. It seems to be my only option.'

As Snape sat in his armchair, his thoughts overwhelmed him and he threw his glass across the room. He shouted, "I just want to sleep! I want to forget! God damn it, I want to die!"

His loss of control caused a tornado of destruction to be whipped around the room, objects flying and smashing against walls, bookcases trembling and spewing their contents across the floor. When the potions cabinet swung open, the tinkling sound of delicate glass breaking drew his attention, and he turned to see his precious potions were slowly sliding to smash on the ground. He caught a small bottle with lightning-fast reflexes.

He began to calm the objects dangerously flying about and set them to hover above the room. Time seemed to suspend as Snape tried to make a decision. The bottle in his hand was filled with what looked like water, innocent water. The stopper on the bottle was a crystal skull, not so innocent.

Draught of Living Death.

"I want to sleep," he heard himself say.

Opening the potion, he raised it to his lips.

"Professor! No!"


	16. I don't want this anymore

A small figure rushed across the room and collided with Snape, sending them both to the floor. All of the suspended items plummeted from the air and hit the ground in a deafening crash, narrowly avoiding the fallen couple.

The Draught of Living Death spilled out from the glass flask, burning through the carpet like the most efficient of acids. Hermione lay across Snape, firmly holding his arm to the floor, incase he should try to get at the last few drops of potion still lingering in the bottle clasped tightly in his hand.

After a few seconds of dazed silence spent gazing into the wide eyes of the girl, Snape rolled from under her while simultaneously pushing her away roughly, sending her sprawling against a bookcase. He made to stand, clutching at the edge of his desk. Hermione, badly winded from the impact, leaned on the shelf and tried to regain her breath, watching as he staggered slightly and dropped to his knees.

Snape turned his head and pinned her with a baleful glare. "What in Merlin's name is wrong with you? Why do you feel the need to continually meddle with my affairs? What gives you the right to just walk into my rooms without permission?"

Breathing slowly, Hermione collected herself, shakily rose to her feet, and walked over to kneel by his side. "I honestly think I have a death wish! But I'm meddling because, as a human being, you do not walk away from people trying to kill themselves. I entered your rooms because you left the door ajar. You are a good man and you don't deserve to die!"

Her professor made a quiet coughing sound and she was shocked to see what looked like a tear roll down his cheek, and he instantly covered his face. She hovered closer to him and touched the hand concealing his eyes.

"Don't touch me!" he snapped.

Hermione dropped her hand, then stood and began to right his belongings. Her charms mended the broken items and tidied the room in a matter of minutes.

'Magic is simply marvellous,' she thought as she surveyed her work. Moving to stand in front of his potion supplies, she took out everything harmful and waved her wand to vanish the various poisonous substances.

"Do you think that will stop me?"

Hermione jumped slightly, having nearly forgotten that she was not alone due to her single-minded concentration on the task. Turning towards the professor, she found that he had made his way to his armchair. She sighed when she saw him pouring whiskey into his newly repaired glass.

"No, I don't, but as a Potions master, I'm sure death by poison appeals to you more strongly than any other method. At least now it will take you a few hours to brew your weapon of choice. Is drinking really a good idea right now, professor?"

"Is standing in my rooms asking stupid questions a good idea?"

"If it keeps you with us a little longer, then yes," she replied quietly.

Snape finished his drink and poured another. "What's wrong with you, Granger, besides the obvious? Clearly, you do have a death wish. We don't like each other, so why won't you leave me alone?"

He kept his head up and his back straight, proud that he had managed to hold the tears at bay, but he still could not look the interfering witch in the face. He knew she had witnessed that one treacherous trail of weakness, and he did not want her to see how many more threatened to fall. He would not unman himself in front of this irritating woman.

"You're mistaken; I do like you. Don't ask me why, but I have always sought your approval. Don't worry! I know I'm not ever going to get it! You invaded my thoughts, and I think you know that. The life debt coursework you set... I understood it. I'm connected to you. Your welfare is important to me as I'm your life's saviour. Yes, I have figured out that part of the prophecy, too."

She stopped and looked at him nervously. He was staring at the amber liquor he was swirling around in the glass, his hair hiding any reaction to her words.

"I saved your life the other night. That ended the debt and you are free. I am free. I have never been so grateful for creating the Sectumsempra curse. I do not wish to owe anyone… particularly you!" he spat out bitterly

"Yes, I understand that, professor. Thank you for saving my life, but your debt is not over." She smiled smugly and continued, "You see, I just saved your life again. And so around we go."

Snape had nothing left. He felt no rage, only simple, resigned acceptance. Magic was a traitor to him at almost every turn. He raised an index finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose, then brushed out across his eyes, making sure he was composed.

"Perhaps I should kill you. That would surely end the cycle."

Hermione huffed in annoyance. "I'm done with this conversation. For the first time in our acquaintance, you are boring me. I need some answers and I need to tell you a few things. Shall I come back when you're emotionally sound?"

"For god's sake... I am not emotional!"

"Sure you're not. You're perfectly in your right mind," she responded sarcastically.

"I don't have a right mind. Get on with it now, I don't want to suffer your presence tomorrow as well. Plus, I will be busy replenishing my potion stocks."

She ignored this barely veiled threat and sat in the armchair opposite of him without waiting for his leave, and yet he did not even glance in her direction.

"Did you see the fox from the prophecy?"

"Yes. Is that all? Off you go then, Granger."

"No, that is not all. Did the fox look like this?" She reached in her pocket and pulled out a small statue that she placed in his hand.

"It did," he said in surprise, studying the object closely. "Accio sacred texts of Japan."

A leather-bound book floated towards him and he caught it without looking up. Leafing through the pages, he opened the book fully at the desired chapter, and then levitated it over to her.

"I don't know why I didn't recognise it before," he muttered.

Hermione examined the beautiful illustration of a fox with nine tails. The heading above it was in Japanese. She cast a translation charm and began to read.

Kitsune foxes are a common subject of sacred text. They are intelligent beings that posses magical abilities. They have the ability to assume human form. While some folktales speak of kitsune employing this ability to trick and deceive, stories also portray them as faithful guardians, friends, lovers, and wives.

Foxes and human beings lived close together in Japan and from this legends about the creatures arose. Kitsune have become closely associated with Inari, a Shinto kami or spirit, and serve as its messengers. This reinforces the fox's supernatural significance. The more tails a kitsune has, the older, wiser, and more powerful it is. Because of their potential power and influence, they can be considered godlike.

Physically, kitsune are noted for having as many as nine tails. When a kitsune gains its ninth tail, its fur becomes white or gold. These kyūbi no kitsune (九尾の狐, nine-tailed foxes) gain the abilities to see and hear anything happening anywhere in the world. Their wisdom knows no bounds.

She stopped reading and looked over at the professor, who was now studying the ceiling. "It's a kitsune? But why? Why is it bothered with us?"

"It is Narcissa Malfoy. I am sure she is a kitsune; I searched her mind."

"When did you see Mrs. Malfoy? She's missing!"

Snape pulled out his wand, accio'd a small vial, and pulled a memory from his temple to place in it. He wearily gazed up at Hermione and she glimpsed his bloodshot eyes and the pallor of his skin.

Placing the book to one side, she rose from her chair and bent over him slightly, automatically reaching out to his face. "What in heaven's name happened to you today?"

He evaded her touch. 'Again!' he thought almost ruefully. "Sometimes, do you not think that you all may ask too much of me?"

"Yes, I've always thought that."

Snape raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Watch the memory. I have no more words." He waved her over to the pensieve resting on a stand in the corner.

Hermione took the memory and went to the stone basin, tipping the twisting filament in. She briefly stirred the contents with her wand and then submerged her head in it.

She gasped in astonishment as Lily appeared. She was stunned that the professor had allowed her to see him beg on his knees. His openness could not be a good thing; the last time he had intentionally exposed himself to such a degree, he knew he was going to die. The uncomfortable feeling that he was serious about ending his life was made all the more so from this memory. She cried when Lily left and watched the professor pick up the stone. Hermione could only applaud his decision to throw it in the lake, but she saw Narcissa before he did. Yelling impotently, then in shock, she numbly observed the events unfold.

Returning from the memory, she gripped the pensieve to steady herself before whirling around towards the man seated behind her.

"You just gave her the stone! Just like that?" she almost shouted at him.

"Be careful! You test my patience time and time again. Do you not think I know that? She manipulated my mind and I did not expect it. Why do you think I reached for a bottle of death? Do you really believe I wanted to put everyone in danger?"

"I think you wanted Lily back, and I think that would motivate you to do anything," she answered softly, sadness coloring her voice.

"Well, know-it-all, you are wrong. I wouldn't do that. I don't want Lily in such a way anymore. I want forgiveness and she gave me that… And I let her down again. I-" he broke off abruptly.

Silent tears filled his eyes and then overflowed as he struggled to regain control of himself. He stared fixedly at the ceiling and tried to blink the moisture back. Two hands suddenly cradled his blotchy face and he fought to pull them off.

"I said… Don't touch me!"

Hermione held on grimly, even as his fingers tightened painfully around her wrists.

"Don't," he repeated.

"No, you stop it! I'm sorry… You're right. I expect too much from you, but you seem to expect too much from yourself. You said goodbye to the woman you have loved for years today. You're allowed to cry!"

"I don't need your permission, Granger." He closed his eyes to block out the sight of the concerned girl holding onto him none too gently.

"No, you don't, but it seems that you need your own permission. We will get the stone back. You will not disappoint Lily's memory," she spoke fervently, her tone firm and insistent.

Snape was trembling now with the exertion of keeping himself from falling apart and the strong urge to be free of her grasp. "Let... go! Does nobody listen to me? Does it not occur to you that I don't want to do this anymore? This fact never seems to cross brilliant minds. Dumbledore never listened, and you are not listening now! For the last time, take your hands off me!"

"If you really wanted me to let go, you could blast me off in an instant! You're just uselessly struggling against something you want."

He shook his head violently at her ridiculous accusation.

"Nobody listens to your words, professor, because your actions say so much more." She stooped lower and kissed the forehead that Lily had merely ghosted over, her warmth radiating through his skin.

And he was undone. Tears coursed down his face in a flood, spilling over Hermione's hands, whose grip had become gentler. Her eyes filled up with sympathy tears. Leaning in close, she pulled him towards her and wrapped her arms about his powerful frame. He resisted her embrace for a moment but his resolve failed him again, and he pressed his head hard against her shoulder.

"I don't...want this! Please, leave me alone," he implored in a pained voice muffled by tears and clothing.

"I know you don't. I will leave, but you need to promise me that you won't take your life and then I will go. If this makes you uncomfortable, as I'm sure it will, obliviate me! I would prefer if you didn't, but if your pride dictates that you must, I'll accept it." She increased the pressure of her unwelcome hug and felt his breath regulating against her neck.

"I have been on my knees twice in one day… My pride is on the floor. I don't want to be a hero and I don't want to be liked. I won't take your memories, I'm not that cowardly, but don't push me further."

She gave him a final squeeze, lightly touched his hair despite her better judgment, and then she pushed herself away from him.

"You have a promise to make!" she declared clearly, trying not to tremble at all the liberties she had taken with the broken man in front of her.

Between gritted teeth, he said, "As you wish, for now... I promise."

He turned his back on her, reaching for his familiar crutch of alcohol in what he hoped was a dismissive manner.

"Very well, sir, I will leave." She walked across the room and paused outside of the doorway. Glancing over her shoulder, she cheerily informed him, "Go steady on the whiskey, professor, you have classes tomorrow."

The sound of glass shattering on the door closing behind her made her smile.


	17. Various meetings and puzzles

Breakfast in the Great Hall was the noisy affair it always was. The lofty ceiling mirrored the late autumn sunshine perfectly and the cavernous walls allowed the happy sounds of diners to echo around.

"Hey, Hermione! I was told you were in the medical wing. Are you ok?" Neville looked at her with concern as she took a seat.

"Yeah, Neville, I'm fine. Just a cold that needed a pepper up potion," Hermione lied smoothly without hesitation.

If he thought it odd that a mere cold necessitated a trip to see Madam Pomfrey, he didn't say so. "Well, you look alright today. How are you finding your first weeks?"

"Erm, good, Neville. And you?"

"Professor Sprout is really doing her best with me and I'm loving every minute of it. Plus, it helps not having Professor Snape telling me I'm useless every day. I've hardly seen him, actually. I hear you have lessons with him twice a week. That must be horrible."

Instinctively, Hermione glanced up at the staff table and noted with a lurch that the professor being discussed was not there. Neville was staring at her, obviously expecting a response.

"Oh... Yes, you're right, it is horrible," she remarked, nodding in agreement.

"Morning, Luna! Saved you a spot!" Neville waved the spacey Ravenclaw over to their table.

Hermione's shrewd eyes noticed the faint flush on Neville's face as Luna approached. 'Well, that's not a complete surprise,' she thought as she watched the blonde girl greet her housemate like she had seen him not that long ago.

Harry strode into the hall, hand in hand with his girlfriend, and with a slight bitterness she mused, 'Everyone's a couple, except for me.'

When Harry passed by, she grabbed at his robes to get his attention. "Can we talk for five before charms revision?"

He smiled at her and nodded absently, then returned all of his focus to Ginny.

After a pleasant meal, the friends all went their separate ways to various N.E.W.T. lessons or studies. Harry and Hermione walked companionably to the library since she wanted to pick up a few extra revisions books.

As usual, Madam Pince did not seem to register their arrival, even though Harry knew the moment that he dropped a book or exclaimed too loudly, the witch would be screaming at him like a banshee. Choosing a nook as far away from the strict librarian as possible, they started to talk in lowered voices.

"So how did you get on?" Harry queried.

"Alright, I guess. I've got some research to do, but at least now I know what I'm looking for."

Hermione put the little statue of the fox down on the table and began to tell Harry all she knew about the kitsune.

"So, who gave you this?" Harry ran a finger over the statue, looking closely at the detail on the delicate figurine.

"My mum."

"Weird. Where would she get something like this?" he asked and handed the fox back.

"I'm not sure. I've had a letter off her this morning, telling me how well they are both doing. She also reminded me to wear this." Hermione placed a necklace with a pearl attached to it on the wooden surface before them.

"Nice. Does that hold any significance?"

"Only that mum said I need to wear it to make sure it retains its luster, but I did briefly see a reference in one of Professor Snape's books relating to it."

"Ok, then ask for the book," he said glibly.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I think not. I risked death in his boudoir last night!"

"Really? Wow. What colour are his p.j.'s? Slytherin green?" Harry laughed at his own wit.

Irma Pince coughed in warning.

"No, Harry. He doesn't wear any," Hermione hissed scathingly.

"Oh my god! That is not the vision I want stuck in my head today. Ginny in lingerie... Ginny in lingerie… Yep, that's better." He grinned

"Well, neither image suits me, so let's be serious for a moment. I went to see Professor Snape as promised and he was covered ankle to wrist to neck in black cloth. Ok?"

"Now that I believe. Did you find out about the stone?"

The door to the library opened. Both of them heard it, but they did not look around and continued with their conversation.

"Yes, I did. Don't freak out, Harry…" She paused and he immediately sobered at her serious tone. "He doesn't have the stone."

The black clad person in the alcove behind them stiffened.

"I thought you said he got there first!"

"I was scared and I didn't see. The Death Eaters got it. But he did try, and he's going to help us get it back." For the second time that day, a lie dropped easily from her lips.

The figure retreated and Hermione shivered, turning towards the closing door. With a slight frown marring her expression, she twisted back to Harry.

"So, I risked death by Snape to gain this information. You, at the very least, can use your little map and break in and borrow it."

"You mean steal it?"

"No, we will return it."

"Think I would rather steal it. Borrowing means I've got to tell him I had it without permission. Yeah, I'll just nick it."

"Good, that's sorted then. Also, Professor Snape said that he has seen Narcissa Malfoy."

She proceeded to tell him of Snape's suspicion about Mrs. Malfoy's origins.

"I'm confused. Are you saying she is an animagus?" Harry scratched his head thoughtfully.

"No, that's not what she is. If the professor is correct, then she is an ancient magical fox from Japan, the one I just told you about. If so, she must be hundreds of years old. I have discovered that kitsune generally take the form of women, using their allure to manipulate men. They can also use mind control if the need arises and are said to have a profound understanding of all magic. They can be evil or they can be good. Once in a while, they will mate and adopt a family. This family, they will protect by any means necessary. But so far, that's all I've got. I need that book."

"This is really bizarre. If she is one of the kitsune that's settled with a family, why in Merlin's name has she left them?"

"I don't know. It doesn't really add up, but I'm determined to find out." Hermione stood and got ready to leave, grabbing the books she needed. "Alright, let's not be late for Professor Flitwick. We had better hurry."

They got the books checked out by Madam Pince and rushed off to their first lesson of the day.

Professor Snape had not made it to breakfast, having awoken with a pounding headache coupled with some very worrisome recollections of the night before. After going to his potions cupboard and swearing loudly about the Granger girl, who had vanished all of the decent pain draughts, he stalked off in the direction of the library to take out a book for his next class.

It was apparent to every student crossing the man's path that Snape was in quite the mood. The hourglasses in the Entrance Hall were tinkling with activity, with every house suffering a dock in points, including Slytherin, but to the trained eye it was clear that the red jewels of Gryffindor were depleted the most.

On arrival at the library, his first sight was of the two Gryffindors that were the main cause of his temper.

Practicing his usual stealth, he snuck up behind the couple, whose heads were bent close in whispered conversation. 'So much for constant vigilance.' He smirked to himself.

Part of their conversation floated towards him.

"He doesn't have the stone."

"I thought you said he got there first!"

"I was scared and I didn't see. The Death Eaters got it. But he did try, and he's going to help us get it back."

His body drew up in shock at the lie and he swiftly retreated out of the room, but in his haste, the door shut a little too violently behind him.

He sailed to his classroom, his mind whirling with confusion. Sweeping through the corridors, his robes flew out, giving credence to his bat nicknames. He threw open the door to the room and shut it with his back. Resting there for a moment, he replayed the exchange he had overheard.

'Why would she lie to Potter?' he pondered.

Snape had thoroughly expected her to tell the arrogant boy how he had just given up the stone, and yet she had not. He shrugged it off and went to his desk to await his morning class. With an irritated roll of his eyes, he realised he never picked up the book that he required.

* * *

The Hag's Head had few customers on a weekday afternoon. The punters that were in attendance gave the impression of being there for a long time; probably still sat by the bar from the night before. Sweating hops and rancid firewhiskey was the odour of the day.

"Perry?"

The barman turned slowly and looked at the newcomer. "Lucius Malfoy? It's been months since you have honoured this establishment with your noble presence."

The wizard before the bar wore long, dark, flowing robes, which in and of itself was nothing strange as everyone did in such a place, but his garb was exquisite in a manner the others lacked; the material thick and rich with little silver clasps that glistened in contrast. His elegant, nearly feminine hands caressed a black cane with a metallic top. The most unusual thing about this wizard was his hair, the white blond strands cascading in a perfectly styled wave to his shoulders.

For those that had known Lucius before the war, his expression was a surprise. His countenance was famous for its disdainful sneer, his aristocratic nose always appearing as though it had smelt something particularly nasty. His expression now, although showing remnants of haughty arrogance, appeared more to be resigned and beaten.

"It seemed wise to keep... a low profile," he said coolly

"Or in plainer words, it seemed wise not to hang around old Death Eater haunts," sneered Perry.

Lucius' poise left him for a moment as he looked around wildly. "Peregrine, do you mind? You may be comfortable brandishing past connections, but I, my old friend, am not. I am only here because you asked me to be by owl this morning. What do you want?"

"You're answering my summons? I wouldn't deem myself worthy of sending for one such as you. I wonder why you responded."

Lucius was taken back and he stammered slightly, "Well... I… I thought you may have news of Narcissa."

"Have you lost your wife? How careless of you. There's someone upstairs that might be able to help. He's taken a private room. I will escort you up."

The elder Malfoy was now completely perplexed. He merely nodded and then followed Perry across the tavern.

"Goyle! Mind the bar, and keep your thieving hands out of the till."

A young man lumbered up out of the gloom, giving a small grunt of assent, his long apelike arms seeming to drag slightly as he lurched to the bar.

Lucius shuddered faintly at the appearance of Gregory Goyle, his son's former best friend. He had avoided imprisonment due to his age and because of his mental diminishment. Personally, by the sight of him, he felt the wretch was lucky to escape a permanent stay at St. Mungo's.

These musings were quickly expunged by the pressing need to know who was waiting for him upstairs.

* * *

Ron Weasley scratched his head distractedly with his wand. The smell of burning hair awoke him to the hazards of such an action.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, patting his singed hair out.

He turned back to the owl that had him so perplexed.

Dear Mr. Weasley,

My wife and I are under the impression that you are a friend and coworker of our daughter Cho Chang.

Please forgive this unusual approach, but we are very concerned about Cho. She is not returning our owls and we have not heard from her since the end of August. We are wondering what is wrong and we are desperate for news.

We are currently staying with relatives in the Orient with the view to returning home in a few months. If our absence is the reason for our daughter's silence, we will return immediately.

Please, can you tell us how she is? Can you encourage her to get in touch?

We are hoping this message finds you well, and we eagerly await your response.

Yours Sincerely,

Mr. & Mrs. Chang

Ron was puzzled. Cho was always a thoughtful, caring sort of person, and certainly not the type to ignore the owls of her parents. In the past, he had assumed that Cho had a great deal of affection for her parents, but thinking about it, he realised she hadn't mentioned them at all for a long time. Frankly, he was concerned about her. He had the feeling that he was dating two girls because she could be so different from day to day. She forgot some things, or didn't mention others, that had occurred between them.

'Important things,' Ron thought.

Over the last week, however, her behaviour had been much more consistent. Thankfully, she had finally mentioned that first kiss, and then repeated it with enthusiasm.

He wondered if she was suffering from a mild form of post traumatic stress. Lots of people had it, and he was surprised that he didn't after all he went through during the war.

Ron folded up the letter and placed it in his pocket. They had a date later. He resolved to ask her about her parents then.

At the same moment Ron was puzzling over his owl, Harry was puzzling over a butterbeer. Today, he was meeting the youngest Malfoy on his terms at the Three Broomsticks.

'How do I tell Malfoy our suspicions?' he mused and took a sip from his tankard, savoring the sweetness.

"Potter."

Harry looked up to see the haughty face of his childhood enemy. He felt a strong, habitual desire to curse him straight between his eyes, but he was able to suppress it.

"Malfoy, take a seat. Want a butterbeer?"

"Go on then." The blond shrugged in distaste.

"I believe it's wise with how early it is. I really don't think I can cope with you on firewhiskey at this time of the day." Harry was smirking slightly.

"Shut up, Potter, and get the damn drinks."

Draco pulled up a seat as Harry went to the bar and waited for his return, casting apprehensive glances at the patrons of the pub while avoiding eye contact. The Gryffindor came back carrying a frothing jug and placed it on the table in front of him.

"So, what have you found out?"

"The words you're struggling for is 'thank you'," Harry said with a small sigh.

Draco picked up the beverage. "If it makes you feel better... Thank you for the drink, you are most kind. Now my mother, Potter!" His unlikely ally raised an eyebrow and he let his shoulders slump slightly as he pushed his hair back. "Fine," he murmured to himself, then asked in a tone of forced politeness, "Harry, would you please tell me what you know about my mother's disappearance?"

"Yes, Draco. I don't know that much, but she has been sighted."

His refined features immediately brightened. "By who?"

"Professor Snape." Harry paused to take a swallow of his drink.

"Go on," muttered Draco.

"Well, this is a bit weird. Have you any links with Japan or any Japanese relatives?"

"Have you gone completely mental? What colour is my hair, my father's hair, my mother's hair?"

"Yeah, I know you're all blond," Harry snapped in irritation.

"Not just blond, but Aryan blond, white platinum blond. Can you honestly believe that we have any Japanese genes at all?"

"If your family hadn't of been wizards and Death Eaters, Malfoy, you would have been muggle Nazis. So yeah, stupid question."

Draco looked slightly offended at this accusation, but could not help but acknowledge the truth in it. "What prompted that inane question?"

"Ok, this is bizarre, but your mother appears to have joined forces with the remaining Death Eaters. They have been looking for a powerful artefact. We think they want to use it to bring back Voldemort."

Draco shuddered. "Don't say his name... This cannot be right. My mother wouldn't do that! She hated the Dark Lord. He tried to kill me! He ruined our family. Why would she want him to return? No... You're wrong." He glared at Harry, searching for his denial.

"I don't know what's going on, to be honest. There's more to this than meets the eye, but regardless, we can't allow them to get the means to resurrect Voldemort." Harry watched his reaction closely.

"I've told you, don't say his name! I refuse to believe my mother is involved, but if something that can revive the dead is out there, the Death Eaters will be after it. They have to be stopped."

"Will you help, Draco?"

There was a short silence as the sounds of the tavern overtook their conversation.

The Slytherin hesitated and then grudgingly responded, "If I can. Why did you ask if we had Japanese connections?"

"Because Snape saw your mum transform into a Japanese kitsune. A fox," Harry clarified when he noticed his confused expression.

Draco spat out his mouthful of butterbeer in a coughing fit. "That's just ludicrous! If my mother could do that, I would know. Anyway, I saw her pursued by a fox, not turning into one! She couldn't be both," he said, wiping his lips with a serviette.

"You may have been mistaken in what you saw."

"I wasn't!" he snarled.

"Ok, ok, I'm sure we can find out. But for now, we know she's alive and in the vicinity. We need to draw her out of hiding or you do. It's the Heroes' Ball soon at Hogwarts. If your mother is on the side of the Death Eaters- I said 'IF'." Draco had made to interrupt him. "She will want to be at the ball somehow, I'm sure of it. So let's make sure you're there, too. I get a plus one invite and Ginny has an invite of her own. You can be my plus one."

"I'm not being your date, Potter!"

"Yuck! A little bit of sick just came up in my mouth at the very thought. Do you want to see your mother? Do you want my help? If so, shut up and turn up on the night, Malfoy!" Harry was frustrated by his lack of cooperation in the matter.

"Fine, but you're wrong about my mother."

"That may be true, but if you come, you can talk to Snape. He's always admired your family. I'm sure he will help you and explain what he saw."

Draco acknowledged the wisdom in this. He drained the last of his drink and shakily put the glass down. "I don't think I will be well received at Hogwarts. In fact, I think I may get hexed from every angle." He looked away from Harry, uncertain as to his next action.

"You'll be with me. People won't like it, but who's going to question the 'chosen one'?"

"Do you have any idea of how arrogant you sound?" Draco sneered.

"Yep! I sound like you. You don't want to be making friends with the wrong sort! I can help you there..." The spectacled young man broke off, shooting a rueful glance at his old classmate and letting his words sink in.

Draco, remembering his own words from so many years ago, turned slightly pink. "Right… It's a date then, Potter!" he growled out suddenly.

* * *

Back at the Hag's Head in Knockturn Alley, Perry pushed open a large door and revealed a gloomy, cobwebbed room with wood-paneled walls and creaky oak flooring.

Lucius looked around the room and his eyes fell on a tall, shrouded figure in the corner. He stepped forward hesitantly, and then flinched when the barman slammed the door behind him as he disappeared back to the lower level.

"Ahh… Lucius! How are you, my slippery friend?"

For a horrifying moment, he thought the Dark Lord himself had materialised in the confines of the little room.

"Expelliarmus."

His wand flew from his hand before he had time to recover from the shock and the realisation that it was not the Dark Lord, but Rabastan, who had disarmed him.

"What is the meaning of this, Lestrange?" blustered Lucius.

"What go you mean? We are practically family! Can I not enjoy a conversation with family?"

"Not by tricking me here and then unarming me like the enemy."

"And yet it was so easy to do. You're slipping! What has you so worried and negligible?"

"I'm tired, Lestrange. What exactly do you want?"

"Where's your wife, hmm?"

"I don't think that's any of your business. How dare you? What do you think you are doing?"

"We are looking after your wife, Lucius. She's very brave; no tears at all."

Lucius face was aflame with rage, but his demeanour remained calm. "What do you want?" he hissed.

"Why, your help is all I require, my dear friend," said Rabastan pleasantly.


	18. Pain and pleasure

"I think there is very little I can do to help you, Rabastan. Regrettably, I was never able to help your poor, deranged sister-in-law and she had much in common with you. The only thing I can do to assist, and it would certainly be my great pleasure to assist, is to write a letter of recommendation for you to receive a permanent stay at St. Mungo's. I hear that Gilderoy Lockhart still resides there. How exciting; a famous neighbour! What do you say, Rabastan, do you still desire my help?" Lucius played with his cane as he spoke, desperate to hold onto his authority.

The unsettling smile on Rabastan's face grew and he thoughtfully tapped his lips with a finger. "Always so amusing, my dear friend. I really have missed you, but you are underestimating your own worth. You are useful and you will be helpful… CRUCIO!"

Lucius fell to the floor like a limp rag doll and twitched uncontrollably in the grip of the curse.

Rabastan bared his dirty teeth in a snarl and repeated the action with an unnecessary flourish of his wand. "CRUCIO!"

The prone figure on the floor contorted into a grotesque abomination of a puppet; his hair, so much like that of a storybook princess, spreading out over the warped planks of the floor, his arms and legs twisting as though they were full of broken bones. The pain was so intense he could not even scream aloud, although the sounds of his agony crescendoed inside of his brain.

Rabastan knelt down by Lucius and stroked his long locks of hair. He began to gently trail his fingers through the fine tresses, savoring the silky texture.

Bending close to the ear of the nearly comatose man, he whispered, "There there, my dear. Did that hurt? I don't want to do it again, but I will if I have to. You need to be reasonable. You are lucky to be alive. That you are is because of my generosity and a small amount of sentiment. My weakness, perhaps, and one I don't display often. I've resented you since the day we were pitched into your family. And yet… I've always been fascinated by you."

Lucius was slowly recovering his wits, even as every muscle in his body was beginning to cramp up. The hushed speech took a moment to truly sink in, but when it did, his horror escalated.

Struggling to regain his composure and the ability to speak, his hoarse, faint voice eventually made itself known to the monster causing him so much suffering. "I... hope... the he… help you re-require is not, is not… I'm married, Rabastan!" His laboured breathing interrupted his words but the revulsion behind them was unmistakable.

The skeletal wizard laughed quietly. "Well, that was worth the try, but admittedly, it did seem unlikely for both husband and wife to offer themselves to me in the same week."

Lucius made a weak but fervent attempt to stand. "If you touched Narcissa... I'll... I'll-"

Rabastan roughly pushed him back down onto the ground. "You'll do what? Writhe on the floor a little more for me? Calm yourself, I haven't touched your wife. Women don't interest me, especially not your woman!"

Sprawled in an undignified heap, the damaged, debased man mustered up every ounce of energy and bravery he had left and spat viciously at his tormentor.

The Death Eater simply allowed the spittle to run down his face. His wand arm twitched slightly. Lucius saw the subtle movement and immediately scooted back across the floor, trying to shield himself.

"CRUCIO!"

This time, Lucius found his voice and screamed louder than he thought possible. White-hot knives pierced his skin to the very bone and he felt sure that death could not feel as bad as this.

As the unforgivable died down, he stopped screaming and began whimpering, his body convulsing every few seconds as if electrified.

"Are we done playing, my precious friend? It's hurting me to watch. Maybe I'm more attractive to you now, hmm?"

He caressed a trembling, pale cheek with his thumb, stroking gently over the flawless skin while chuckling at the sight of Lucius' frightened countenance. Abruptly, he growled and scratched along the wizard's face with his long, gnarled nail, digging into and ripping the flesh. Blood dribbled down and snaked to his captive's scalp, staining the blond hair a deep maroon.

"Pleasure and pain, Lucius… Does that work for you?"

Lucius swallowed deeply. "You're... You are perverted."

"Thirty-four years you have known me, and you're just realising that now? Aren't all Death Eaters a little perverted? Are you not? I saw you when we cursed Muggles together, how your face flushed with anticipation."

"It was a mistake! That's not who I am!" The broken man began to cry.

Rabastan straightened up and moved to the other end of the room. "Yes, you're quite right, Lucius. That's not who you are anymore. You are a coward and a traitor, and that is exactly who you are. I'm done playing with you. I despise what you have become and deplore your treachery to the Dark Lord. You have one chance to hold onto your miserable existence. I need you to get me into Hogwarts. If you can provide this service, I will let your wife go. If you fail, I will kill her and you, but I will have fun with it, and I will take my time. What do you say, Lucius?"

Lucius nodded mutely.

"I understand that the vanishing cabinet is at your mansion. The Dark Lord moved it there when he came to power at the Ministry. Is it still residing at your home? Does it still work?"

"I still have it... but its mate was in the Room of Requirement and was surely destroyed by the fiendfyre." His breath was evening out as he gradually recovered his strength.

"Can you find out?" snapped Rabastan.

"Yes."

"If you find it's unusable, do you have any other ways in?" He paced over to help the fallen wizard stand.

"I... have… contacts." Lucius struggled to gain his footing even with the assistance. Rabastan released him suddenly and he staggered, only to freeze like prey catching sight of a predator when he noticed the wand aimed at his chest once again. "No! Please, no... I can't take any more!" he wailed, his composure fleeing completely at the prospect of more torture.

Rabastan showed his foul, yellowed teeth in yet another lecherous smile and uttered, "Nocere menon."

Purple smoke flew out of Lucius' wand, which Rabastan held so casually before he flipped it up end over end, gracefully snatched it out of the air, and then offered the gleaming wooden stick back to its owner.

"Your wand is now useless when directed at me, so don't bother with an attack."

Lucius looked at the wand resting innocently in his palm as if it was contagious with some vile disease.

"Don't worry, traitor, it works with anything else; you just can't threaten me. Get us into the school on the night of the Heroes' Ball and do not betray me. Your wife will be returned if you fulfill this assignment… You may leave."

Not needing to be told twice, Lucius stumbled out of the room, leaving Rabastan staring out of the tiny window at the street scene down below.

* * *

"You ready?"

"Not really, but let's go!"

In what was now an overly common occurrence, Harry and Hermione were standing outside Snape's door, debating with one another about who would knock this time.

Hermione closed her eyes and swiftly rapped on the door. There was no answer, nor did the door swing open dramatically in the manner she was accustomed to.

She knocked again and still, no answer was forthcoming from behind the looming barrier before them. Panic began to consume her as horrible visions were conjured up by her imagination, each worst than the last, of her professor dying by his own hand.

Fighting for control of her emotions, she hurriedly explained, "Harry, there's something I didn't tell you about the other night. Professor Snape halfheartedly tried to... erm... kill himself. I stopped him… by force."

"Wow, that's not good. Do you think he's had another go at it? Is that why he's not answering, do you think?" Harry looked absolutely flustered and caught off guard.

"I don't know, but I think we need to go in... Alohomora." Hermione didn't wait for her friend's opinion on this course of action, casting the spell quickly without thinking through the possible consequences.

The door creaked open to reveal the now familiar, shadowy office of their Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Hermione glanced around wildly, trying to spot any signs of something out of place.

Harry had cautiously approached the high-backed chair set behind the ornate desk that was the centerpiece of the room. "Hermione," he whispered.

Hermione rushed over to his side and was greeted by the disturbing view of Professor Snape slouched down in the seat with his head lolling forward like a marionette with its strings cut.

"Oh my heavens, is he dead? He can't be dead! Not after everything we've done!" She found herself again balancing on the edge of hysteria.

"Calm down, I haven't even taken his pulse!" Harry snapped at her, his tone sounding anything but calm.

He reached for the wrist hanging limply from the armrest and as his fingers settled around the pulse points, the deathly figure suddenly rose up with a mighty bellow and strong magic lashed out, propelling Harry violently across the room, where he tumbled to the ground.

Both Harry and Hermione shouted "Merlin!" in unison.

Snape stood there breathing heavily with a malicious glare pinned on Harry, and then slammed his hands down on the surface of his desk, causing the two students to flinch.

"No, just Professor Snape. What are you doing in my office without my permission, Potter?" he said in a dangerously soft voice and moved in long strides to tower over the idiot boy.

"Hermione's... here too, sir," Harry responded haltingly, in a feeble attempt to apportion blame.

"Yes, I am aware of that, but I'm getting used to the bushy-haired nuisance bouncing into my office unannounced whenever she bloody well pleases. I was asking you!"

"It's time for our dueling lesson, sir, and… you didn't answer the door."

The volatile wizard hesitated for a moment, and then slid his pocket watch out from an undetectable location in his robes. 'Yea gods, he's actually right… for once. How on earth did I just fall asleep like that?' Snape thought as he glowered down at the disrespectful young man sprawled on the floor.

"I believe I have won the duel, Potter, and I was asleep," he remarked scornfully.

Harry pulled himself together and stood up, dusting off his attire. "Well, in my defence, I thought you were dead!" he said indignantly.

"Indeed? …And why did you think I was dead? Why not the obvious choice? Sleeping, perhaps?" Snape turned slightly to look at a wilting Hermione.

She opened her mouth and shut it again without speaking a word.

"Because you have never been late for anything in your life, and remembering that, mere months ago, you were on death's doorstep, it didn't seem too far of a leap to make, sir," Harry stated promptly, shooting a warning glance at Hermione.

Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his prominent nose. "Always lying, Potter. I am not stupid and I know Granger has told you about our… moment."

Hermione blushed and nervously babbled, "Honestly, professor, I just told him outside the door when you didn't answer, and I only said that you had halfheartedly tried to kill yourself and I stopped you by force. That's all; nothing else."

He raised an elegant eyebrow in response, managing to covey endless contempt with a single gesture. "By force? Do you mean by knocking me off my feet with your body weight? Don't flatter yourself!"

Harry watched this interchange with growing surprise. 'What else could there be to tell? Why would he possibly refer to it as ourmoment?' he wondered, staring at his best friend inquiringly.

"If you're too tired to duel, professor, we can just go," he suggested, strongly hoping they would be dismissed.

"I know you can just go, so don't presume to tell me how I feel or what I should do. I will meet you both in the Room of Requirement in ten minutes and may Morgana have mercy on your souls, because I'm treating this as therapy!" He flung the door open and rudely ushered them out.

The pair scuttled off down the hallway as fast as they could.

"Oh dear god, that was awful!" Harry exclaimed, deeply mortified to have witnessed such a scene.

"Do you think he will always treat us like naughty children?" Hermione asked, her expression tinged faintly with sorrow.

"Probably! Even when we're in our fifties, I can't imagine him treating us with anything resembling respect."

Ten minutes later, they were sat uneasily in the Room of Requirement awaiting their fate when Snape swept through the door, and with his customary theatrics, spelled it shut behind him, the loud impact echoing off the walls.

The room was adapted to accommodate a dueling lesson and Harry gazed apprehensively at the small collection of healing potions lined up neatly on a shelf that was set out of the way.

"Who's first?" Snape growled, and then shook his head brusquely. "Never mind that, let's get this over with, both at the same time. Prepare yourselves!"

He ascended onto the dueling platform with a smooth grace that was almost beautiful to behold, while Harry and Hermione stumbled up on the opposing side to challenge him.

Snape gave a curt bow and raised his wand up sharply in front of his face. His opponents managed a poor imitation in return before all three simultaneously began their attack and the bright flash of stunning spells shot across the dais.

'Levicorpus!' The professor focused firmly on the hex in his mind and then directed it towards the one in front of him with the slowest reflexes in an instant.

Harry spun round when he heard Hermione cry out and saw her flip upside-down, dangle from her ankle briefly, and drop to land on heavily on a pile of conveniently placed cushions.

"Stupify!" he yelled and realised his mistake much too late. His spell glanced harmlessly off of Snape's shield and a silent stunner sent him reeling backwards for the second time that day.

Hermione had climbed back on the stage and streams of silver light shot from her wand like arrows, all converging on the dark man, who batted them away as though they were no more substantial than air.

Harry ran towards Snape to continue his assault, this time keeping his mouth shut and thinking fiercely, 'Petrificus to-'

"Finite incantatem!" Snape broke his silence with a commanding roar and the power behind the counter-spell rippled outwards, nullifying his students' magic.

They had a brief chance to recuperate as the enchanted luminosity and smoke dissipated, aware that additional casting would be useless for the next few seconds.

"Back into position," Snape instructed dryly.

As soon as he spoke the words, two curses bounded towards him while he darted to the side and tossed back a firm impediment jinx that stopped them in their tracks.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, this is impossible!" gasped Hermione, fighting to fill her lungs and looking around for the professor, who had vanished.

Back to back, they circled the platform with their wands held at the ready and eyes alert. Tension crept into their postures as the quiet drew on, breached only by their own harsh breathing.

Snape appeared suddenly in front of Hermione.

She cried out in surprise and attempted to retreat, shouting "Tarantallegra!", but she tripped over Harry and struck him with the spell instead.

He immediately went into a frenzied tap-dance and called to her in frustration, "Thanks, Hermione! Real helpful!"

Snape laughed in delight before he could prevent it. The laughter died on his lips when he took note of Hermione's curious glance.

'Petrificus totalus!' he chanted mentally and visualized the curse, quickly aiming at the unprepared girl.

Her arms and legs snapped together and she keeled over backwards, falling off of the edge and landing with a crash on her back, completely missing the pillows. Snape cast a casual finite, an annoyed expression twisting his features, and strode over to the horizontal witch. Harry wobbled over, too.

"Alright, Granger, you were both pitiful, but that will do for today, I think."

Hermione didn't move.

"Bloody hell, she's bleeding again. What is the matter with this girl?" Snape muttered. "Fetch Madam Pomfrey, Potter!"

Harry took one worried look at his injured friend, nodded, and lurched towards the door.

"And try not to break your neck, or the Headmistress will have my head!" he barked after him.

Sighing in exasperation, he kneeled beside the diminutive and apparently fragile form, stomping out even the slightest sliver of sympathy or worry before it could manifest.

She stirred faintly and blearily asked, "Wha... what just happened?"

"You failed to land on the cushions when I hexed you."

"Oh… sorry."

"I hexed you, Granger. You don't have to apologise for being truly awful at evading spells."

Hermione pushed herself to her knees and tried to stand. "Well, that's a departure from the norm. We usually have to apologise on bended knee for every little thing we cannot master in your... Whoa, I think I'm going to be sick!"

"No, you are not. Cease your inane attempt at standing immediately! Spew the contents of your stomach on me and I'll-"

"Curse ...me ...again?" she interrupted between small heaves.

With determined stubbornness, she again struggled to rise to her feet. Heat and dizziness flushed up her body to her head, and she staggered. Snape caught her before she toppled to the ground.

"Madam Pomfrey will be here in a minute. Now, will you stop trying to get up, you silly girl?!"

He slid his arms around her aggressively to pin and hold her tightly, effectively preventing any further movement from the insolent chit. Her head came to rest neatly under his chin.

Hermione started to speak, but Snape cut her off harshly. "Don't throw up and don't talk... Just. Shut. Up."

So she closed her eyes, once more in close proximity to the professor that scared the living daylights out of her, and alarmed reflections on her enjoyment recurred, racing through her overtaxed brain.

Snape was uncomfortably aware that this wasn't a normal situation; a person did not simply end up in the same position multiple times unless, on some level, they wanted to. Her outrageous hair tickled his skin and he looked down at her to see her peaceful, doe-like eyes shut.

'How can she be so relaxed? She should be wetting herself in fear and not lying in my arms like it was a treat for good behaviour! This has to stop!' he thought in panic.

When he began to lose the feeling in his limbs, he lifted her up to move her onto the cushions and away from him while he waited impatiently.

Unable to tolerate the delay for even a moment longer, he reluctantly pulled her close and was about to stand as the door swung open.

"Does that make three times then, Severus?"

Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall had entered the room and were now both staring far too intently at him. He performed a quick search for Potter, but thankfully, the brat was nowhere in sight.

"I don't know what you are talking about, Minerva."

"Oh, drop the clueless act, it has never suited you. That's three times you've been found in each other's arms."

He scowled at his employer and refused to offer any other reaction except for his obvious displeasure.

The bundle in his arms twitched and said, "Four times."

Snape hissed in annoyance.


	19. Father figures

"Father! ...Sir? Are you ok?" Draco Malfoy called through the elaborately carved, mahogany door that led to his parents' personal chambers and knocked again on the heavy wood.

"Yes, Draco, I'm fine. Go away and play," was the faint reply at last.

The young man's pale forehead furrowed further with concern and he shook his head sadly. "With respect, sir, I'm nineteen. My days of playing ended a long time ago, before they should have done, thanks to You-Know-Who. Are you alright? You are worrying me."

Behind the door, Lucius Malfoy winced at his unintentional blunder. 'Nineteen? Where did the time go? I sound like an old fool… but how do I tell my son I am about to throw all of us back into darkness to get his mother back?' He sat on his bed with his aching head cradled in his hands, missing his wife like he never dreamt possible.

After the silence had stretched on for too long, Lucius regained his bearings and spoke hurriedly, "I'm sorry, ignore your old father. I have a headache, Draco, and I will be fine. I simply need some sleep, son." He hoped his heir would accept his weak response and depart.

Draco hesitated to leave and stood in the hallway, his feet planted by indecision. His father did sound ill, and worse than that, he sounded confused. He leaned against the doorframe slightly while he thought. His mother's disappearance was obviously and severely affecting the normally cool demeanour of the man, mentally and physically. He had always assumed that his father was the alpha male, the dominant autocrat of the house. Draco now realised how wrong he was, as clearly his mother did have a strong influence on him.

Trying to coax his father a final time, he shouted through the door, "Can I get you anything, at least? Maybe tea with some pain potion?"

"No, no, that's quite alright. I'm sorry, Draco, go about your business."

"Ok… Oh, I wanted to inform you that I've been invited to the ball at Hogwarts. It's going to be tremendously embarrassing. I'm not, as you may imagine, popular nowadays, but I'm going to attend anyway. It is one more bridge I can try and mend. Do you think that's ok?"

Lucius considered this bit of news for a moment. 'Well, that is another way in, but it would mean betraying my son or pushing him to perform the very task he did in his sixth year; letting Death Eaters into Hogwarts.'

He groaned inwardly. "Yes, very nice. Purchase new dress robes at Twilfitt and Tatting's, they know the style we are accustomed to, and spare no expense; we want people to see that the Malfoy estate is still as strong as ever."

'Now that sounds more like him, the pompous arse!' Draco huffed in amusement, his fear for his remaining parent's sanity lessening slightly as he listened to the muffled words of the stern individual he had never fully understood and, until recently, could rarely ever please.

He walked away from his father's room, his shoes making no noise as he strode across the thick Axminster carpet that floored the exquisite landing area.

Personally, he believed the last thing he needed was to show off opulence and wealth at the school while it was filled to the brim with wizards and witches who would no doubt feel exceedingly hostile towards him, or any other former Death Eater, for that matter. He shuddered at the thought of how quickly he would end up sprawled on his back after being hexed from a hundred different directions.

'No,' he reflected suddenly and his steps halted by the dark wood banister that spiraled through the centre of the manor. 'Invisible. That's what I need to be.'

"Invisible," he said aloud.

'Maybe Potter would lend me his cloak,' he contemplated, staring blankly ahead as his mind began to formulate a plan, and then he carelessly traversed the sweeping staircase.

The eyes of the silent portraits hung on the deep purple walls followed the Malfoy heir until he sauntered out of their sight.

* * *

"It's a small concussion, and she will be fine in a few moments," Madam Pomfrey announced.

Hermione shifted uneasily in Snape's arms and murmured quietly, "I think I can stand now, professor."

The taciturn wizard immediately dropped her in his haste to be rid of her and she staggered, almost falling to the ground for a third time in the last hour.

"I said 'I think I can stand'! I didn't say to throw me on the floor!" Hermione exclaimed indignantly as she straightened herself, glaring heatedly at her instructor.

"My apologies," said Snape coolly as he turned away from her, his tone of voice clearly portraying how far he was from being sorry for his action.

"Professor McGonagall, may I leave? I just want to lie down," she asked softly, ignoring him and focusing her attention on the headmistress instead.

"Of course, my dear. Madam Pomfrey will escort you to your rooms and hopefully Mr. Potter will be there to take care of you."

Hermione disappeared out the door with the mediwitch's arm around her shoulders.

"You're turning into a nursemaid, Severus. A few moments and she would have been fine, so why the panic?" McGonagall attempted to bate the professor, in the hope of understanding him a little more.

"It was not panic, Minerva. I assumed you would prefer that I call for aid and I admit it was the thought of your fury that made me remain. My first inclination was to leave her here with Potter, so I wouldn't miss my afternoon tea in the dungeons. I really thought the concern would be all yours. She is, after all, your little teacher's pet," Snape replied snidely

"No, she is not my pet… but she is quite certainly yours!"

He drew himself up to his full height, and glowering at his colleague, he hissed, "Again, your insinuations are distasteful to me. I have never had favourites and I can assure you that I never will."

"Utter Bagshot! You always favored young Mr. Malfoy."

"That was different. I had to, I was told to, and he is my godson," fired back Snape.

"Well, I'm telling you now, Severus, you need to be careful. It is obvious to me that the girl is drawn to you, and I don't know if I am horrified by it or not. I'm not able to understand what Miss Granger wants from you. I would ask her, but I think she is unaware herself. I'm fairly certain that whatever it is she needs, be it a friend, a father figure, a mentor, or possibly something more personal, you are in a position to hurt her. Unfortunately, knowing you as I do, I am convinced you cannot provide anything from that list… To be honest, Severus, I almost wish you could." McGonagall could not quite believe what she was almost endorsing even as the words tumbled out.

"I beg your pardon? Why would you wish for me to behave inappropriately with any student? Clearly, you are spending too much time associating with Dumbledore's portrait and his ability to cross lines is rubbing off on you, headmistress. Have you started drinking sherry, as well?"

"I would never support crossing the line of student-teacher relationships. How dare you even insinuate that! Miss Granger is no longer a student as she is here on special dispensation. All of the war heroes at the school are treated as equals and adults. I've seen you in the staffroom with Mr. Longbottom; you pass him tea like everyone else. In fact, you treat them all as adults, with the exception of Miss Granger and Mr. Potter, whom you behave towards like they are still eleven. They are twenty and nineteen, and you need to see that, Severus. And no, I despise sherry, but after this conversation, I will need something for my nerves."

Snape struggled to find anything he could say to diminish the import of this lengthy lecture, and went with a feeble retort, "I am certainly going to be pouring firewhiskey over the memory of this afternoon, but for you, Minerva, I suggest gin. You are obviously at that time of life."

McGonagall huffed in annoyance, knowing she was going to get no sensible response from the surly wizard. She opted once again to test his muggle knowledge. "Well, to coin and adapt a muggle phrase, if you were my husband, I would poison your firewhiskey, you cantankerous fool."

"I can finish that one. Madame, if you were my wife, I would gladly drink it." Snape's lip curled slightly as it always did when bantering with the aged Scottish woman.

"Voldemort truly didn't understand you at all, did he, Severus?" The witch smiled fondly.

"I think not, but then I'm quite convinced and let me assure you, happy with the thought. Nobody does, not even you, headmistress."

"Don't be too sure, my dear. You are forgetting that I have known you since you were eleven, and sometimes I still see the insecure little boy when I look at you."

"You see what you want to see, Minerva. You read too many penny trash books."

McGonagall flounced towards the exit. After walking through, she turned for a moment to look back at the wizard who infuriated her beyond belief, noting his proud stance and unapproachable attire.

"I nursed you day and night, Severus. You were asleep for days. I know you very... very well. Are you aware that you talk in your sleep?"

She spun around quickly and left, the door closing quietly behind her. She smiled to herself as she imagined her parting shot penetrating the man's seemingly impervious armour.

Hermione was comfortably settled in her room at Grimmauld Place.

"Are you cursed, Hermione? Why is everything happening to you at the moment?" Harry was sat on one end of her bed.

"Why, what else has happened to her?" Ginny was also cross-legged and sitting close to her boyfriend's side.

"Well, you know about the snake venom and what not," he answered hurriedly.

The redhead looked at him suspiciously and then at Hermione, who nodded furiously in agreement.

"Yes, I seem to be accident prone. Had a bad cold too, Ginny, and I'm sick of being sick now."

Ginny was outwardly satisfied with their explanations. She unfurled her legs and gracefully hopped off of the high four-poster bed. "Madam Pomfrey said I could only stay for an hour, so I better floo back. This is the first time they have let me floo here… I don't think they trust Harry."

Hermione laughed. "No, it's you they don't trust."

She smiled mischievously in response, gave her friend a brief hug, and then nodded to Harry to follow her out.

About twenty minutes later, Harry knocked on the door and let himself back into Hermione's room. He was carrying a large book with him and a slightly dazed expression covered his features.

Hermione looked him up and down slowly, and then giggled. His hair was a wild mess, his shirt was not quite tucked in, and he appeared to be missing a button.

"Your fly's down," the giggling girl informed him.

"It is not, I checked!" Harry claimed indignantly, only to blush moments later at the veiled insinuation. "I mean, I always check when I've been to the bathroom," he clarified.

"Sure you do, Harry, my mistake. Do you always lose buttons on the loo, too?" She grinned at his beetroot red face.

The embarrassed wizard glanced at his shirt and groaned. "Must of caught it on something," he muttered.

"Yeah, probably on Ginny's fingernail. It happens." Hermione was thoroughly enjoying herself at this point.

"Oh, just shut up, will you? You're getting as sarcastic as Snape! When you've stopped giggling, and dear gods, I hope that's the concussion's effect, I want to show you something. I've brought this for you to read." He plunked the large, leather-bound volume on her lap and shuffled up onto the bed next to her.

"Sacred Texts of Japan," gasped Hermione, tracing the raised title letters with her fingers.

"Yep. That's the one you wanted, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was. When did you get it?" She started leafing through the pages as she spoke, plainly excited to have it in her possession.

"While you were being fussed over by the dungeon bat and two old witches, I thought it was the ideal time to commit a small, unarmed robbery. Knowing his office was empty and that he was unlikely to have set wards, it paid off!"

"It certainly did. You would have done well in Slytherin, Harry!"

He grimaced a bit at the accusation. "Well, you're the one who goes round kissing them, so you'd know, wouldn't you?"

"Oh grow up, and look! This is interesting..."

"Hellooooo! Anyone home?! What's for tea?!"

"Ron," said Harry and Hermione in unison, grinning at each other as the expected Weasley quickly rapped on the door and let himself in.

Gazing at the two of them, his freckled face broke into a smirk. "Does my sister need to be informed that you're sat together on Hermione's bed?"

"You've just missed your sister, and don't worry, she marked her territory."

The amused look adorning Ron's face abruptly slid off and he scowled at the reminder of the relationship between his best friend and his sister. "What are you doing anyway?"

The subject changed and everyone stared intently at the old book resting on Hermione's lap. After filling Ron in on all that he had missed, Hermione found the chapter she was looking for and read aloud to the boys now perched on either side of the bed.

"Kitsune are commonly portrayed as lovers. The kitsune may be a seductress, but these stories are more often romantic in nature. Typically, the man unknowingly marries the fox, who proves to be a devoted wife.

Many stories tell of fox-wives bearing children. These children possess special supernatural qualities that often pass to their own children.

The astrologer-magician, Abe no Seimei, was reputed to have inherited such extraordinary powers from a kitsune grandmother.

The kitsune will protect their child by any means possible, sometimes using questionable means.

The kitsune have a varied arsenal of power to use. One tactic is for the kitsune to confuse its target with illusions or visions, creating false images of reality. These images cannot, however, be sustained for long. Other common goals of trickster kitsune include seduction, theft of food, humiliation of the prideful, or vengeance for a perceived slight.

In some stories, kitsune have difficulty hiding their tails when they are hurt or upset. Looking for the tail, perhaps when the fox gets drunk or careless, was considered a good way to see if a woman is a kitsune or not.

Depictions of kitsune often feature round white balls known as hoshi no tama. Some stories identify them as magical jewels or pearls. When not in human form or possessing a human, a kitsune keeps the ball in its mouth. Jewels are a common symbol of Inari, and representations of sacred Inari foxes without them are rare.

One belief is that when a kitsune changes shape, its hoshi no tama holds a portion of its magical power. Another tradition is that the pearl represents the kitsune's soul; the kitsune will die if separated from it for long. Those who obtain the ball may be able to extract a promise from the kitsune to help them in exchange for its return. Or it may be loaned for a short time as protection to a loved one."

Hermione stopped reading and looked up at the boys. "Sound familiar, Harry?" She reached across Ron to the bedside cabinet, picking up a necklace and holding it in the air.

They all gazed at its iridescent sheen.


	20. And the moonbeams kiss the sea

"I'm getting seriously confused now. What's going on?" Harry irritably grabbed at the necklace and swung it to and fro like a pendulum.

Hermione tried to snatch the pearl from him, her fingers grasping fruitlessly as he swung the delicate chain further away and out of her reach.

"Is this a talisman? If so, put it on! Might stop the constant bedside visits Ron and I are having to pay you."

"Pass it here. Hermione, put it on this instant!" Ron deftly caught the jewel that Harry threw to him.

Hermione leaned back when her impulsive friend scrabbled over and attempted to hang the necklace about her throat.

"Get off, Ron! I can put a piece of jewelry on by myself!" She made a swiping gesture to ward the redhead out of her personal space.

Ron immediately stopped trying to get a hold of her, and blushing hotly, he handed the chain to the indignant young woman. Contritely, he muttered, "Yeah, you can. Sorry, Mione. Just put it on, will you?"

"Do you really think it's safe? It could be a trick." Hermione stared nervously at the orb nestled in her palm.

"I think if the necklace was cursed, we would be dead by now, but maybe wearing it will make it dangerous." Harry also glared at the innocent-looking object with deep suspicion.

"I keep wondering where my mum got it from. What if a Death Eater gave it to her somehow and she thought it would make a nice gift? But she did tell me that it's an ancient heirloom from Japan. Apparently, we had a Japanese ancestor many years ago. She said stories claim that the charm protects and brings help if it is needed. She smiled when she told me this, and I thought, at the time, it was a disbelieving smile. My mum didn't know how true the legend was but that my father noticed the necklace when she was young and said it was beautiful like her; that's why they started going out. I really can't see us having Japanese ancestors… Perhaps someone told her that to get her to accept this, but why?"

"That's just too weird! Hang on a minute, you said these fox thingies-"

"Kitsune!" interrupted Hermione and Harry in unison.

"Yeah, whatever. You said these fox thingies can alter minds and reality. Maybe Mrs. Malfoy planted a false memory in your mother, thereby getting her to plausibly accept the gift as being in her family for generations. You've never heard the story before this, have you?" Ron paused for confirmation. When Hermione shook her head, he continued, "And if it was an heirloom to be passed down through generations, why would you not have been given it when you came of age? That's traditional with muggles and wizards alike."

"Wow, Ron, that's very possible. You might actually be right! Don't put it on, Hermione, just in case a curse was put on it."

Hermione thought hard before she said, "I'm still confused... If she wanted to kill me, she could just do it. No need for all this nonsense, really. This is a symbol of protection and it's linked to the Kitsune's soul. But if that's true, why would Mrs. Malfoy want to protect me? I'm so confused." She played with the fastener on the chain distractedly.

"I just don't see where we go from here. What's next? What shall we do now?" As always, Harry looked at the intelligent young woman in front of him, confident in her decisions.

"We do nothing, Harry. We wait, we let events unfold. Then when the time comes, we need to be ready for anything, as usual. I'm going to put this on; I'm convinced I should."

She opened the clasp, brought the ends around to the back of her neck, and fumbled to latch it. She huffed in annoyance and Ron reached behind her to push her long hair out of the way and over one shoulder. Taking the necklace from her hands, he easily fastened it and then closed his eyes before allowing the chain to fall onto her bare skin.

All three winced in anticipation of something horrible happening.

Harry glanced about the still quiet bedroom and laughed. "Well, that was dramatic."

"Ok, what now?" Ron asked, opening his eyes in relief.

"I'm going to sleep. We still have N.E.W.T.s to try and pass. How's your revision going, Ron?"

He blushed for the second time that evening. "It is going, erm… It's a good thing I've got Cho."

Harry laughed again and patted Ron on the back. "Never mind that, mate. It's a good job I've got Hermione! What would we do without women?"

"Clearly, you would all fail your exams, have rubbish jobs, and play Quidditch all day." Hermione sniffed.

"Hey, that doesn't sound so bad; I haven't played Quidditch for months."

"Yeah, we need to arrange a match or something. I'm itching to get back on my broom."

The boys slid off of the very crumpled bed sheets and strode out of the room, talking excitedly about the last Quidditch match they saw.

"Good grief, how easily distracted are you?!" shouted Hermione after them, torn between amusement and exasperation.

"Very!" Harry yelled from the hall.

"Yeah, it's good that you were wearing a bra under your nightshirt, because we wouldn't have heard a thing if not!" Ron chimed in.

They chortled and went downstairs for a drink.

Hermione shook her head, then remade her bed and lay down in the fading light of day.

'I really hope I don't have any more incidents… I honestly don't thing my body can take it. I feel like an old woman,' she thought as her eyelids drifted close. She rubbed gently at the pearl resting just above her chest. "I hope you do keep us safe," she murmured sleepily.

Despite how early it was, almost as soon as the faint moonlight entered the room, she fell into a restless sleep filled with dreams.

Her sleeping visions floated in front of her eyes. She was running blindly, groping in the dark. There were shadowy shapes and moments of panic, of franticly seeking someone, anyone that could help. Then the oppressive feelings of unrequited love engulfed her, the weight and crush almost unbearable, all for someone she thought she knew, someone she couldn't find. The need to vent her fear opened her mouth and forced a soundless scream, but the frustration of the ineffective action alerted no one to her aid.

In the real world, the girl on the bed twisted and turned, entangled by the suffocating linen that wrapped around her limbs in a restrictive grip. Her eyelids fluttered slightly in the grip of REM and her mouth muttered a familiar name.

Then a voice, deep and calming, slow and calculated, placated her restless dreams and lowered words of poetry filled her mind, comforting her with their familiarity.

"The fountains mingle with the river

And the rivers with the ocean,

The winds of Heaven mix for ever

With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single;

All things by a law divine

in one spirit meet and mingle.

Why not I with thine?—

See the mountains kiss high Heaven

And the waves clasp one another;

No sister-flower would be forgiven

If it disdained its brother;

And the sunlight clasps the earth

And the moonbeams kiss the sea:

What are all these kissings worth

If thou kiss not me?"

The panic of the nightmare subsided and she melted into the poetry, her breathing now rhythmic, back and forth like the roll of the ocean. She could almost hear the sounds of the sea crashing against the shore, and she could imagine quivering moonlight playing across the rippling crystal saline.

The pearl that lay around the sleeping girl's neck gleamed in the waning illumination of the room.

She rolled face first into her pillow, the sheets falling to the floor. She slept with the words of Shelley caressing her ears. Her breathing slowed, her limbs became still, awash with sleep, and she slumbered.

* * *

Snape forced himself to attend the evening meal in the Great Hall.

He sat straight-backed, almost ignoring the food in front of him in his scrutiny of the pupils that were all eagerly tucking into the Hogwarts' fare. Occasionally, he paused from this occupation to push the contents of his plate around. He found his eyes flickering to the area that he had derisively named 'The Heroes Table', and the few there were quietly talking and clearly enjoying the banquet. The table looked empty, however, with the absence of two students. Snape briefly wondered if a certain Gryffindor was alright after her disastrous dueling session. A small pang of regret at the ferocity of his curses flickered in his mind and he quashed it immediately, but his attention still wandered in a very unfamiliar way.

"What do you think? Severus? ...Hello, Severus?"

"What? Pardon?" He glanced up and met the Headmistress' amused stare with a blank one of his own.

"Severus, you're away with the fairies. We've been talking to you for five minutes."

Snape grimaced at the expression. "I can assure you that the only person who's away with the fairies is the Divination apprentice."

They both turned to observe Luna, who was busy wafting wrackspurts away with a distant expression on her face.

"Yet she's always so happy and at peace, isn't she? Perhaps a dalliance with the fairies would do you good, professor," said McGonagall while she watched the young woman.

He snorted in response, causing Professor Flitwick to look up in alarm. "What were you saying to me, Headmistress? I apologise for my momentary lapse of concentration. I await with bated breath for whatever words of wisdom you were trying to impart… to me."

"I was merely discussing the need to reinstate some kind of Muggle Studies. Since our dear Professor Burbage was murdered, nobody wants the post. I think it is essential that we sort this problem out; we don't want the next generation to be raised under the Magic is Might banner."

Snape inwardly cringed at the thought of his colleague, Charity, and remembered how she had declared him to be her friend in front of Voldemort. He had been saddened and shocked at the time. He could not help her, and once again, he had watched a person die who he was unable to save.

"I think if we start up Muggle Studies again, it would be nice to include some muggle education. Filius and I were discussing literature. We have pupils here full of magic but with absolutely no soul in what they read."

"Are you telling me you want foppish boys and teary-eyed girls running around quoting Byron and threatening to drown themselves in the lake?"

"Nice though that sounds, you know full well that's not what I mean. I know you have a fair amount of muggle literature in your personal library. I'm thinking, for a start, we could arrange for poetry or classic book readings in the library."

Professor McGonagall turned to the diminutive Charms Master for support.

"Why, yes indeed, Minerva! Maybe, Severus, you could lend the library a few of your books. I would happily arrange a book club if you could provide the material." Flitwick's eager face nodded furiously at Snape.

He sighed and reluctantly agreed. "I see no harm in it. I will arrange some books for you, but don't ask me to attend, or read, at your 'hug me and cry' sessions."

"We wouldn't dream of it, Severus. Now please eat your food. I'm not spending any more time in the medical wing with you." The Headmistress then faced Flitwick and continued their conversation.

Snape scowled at the reference to his illness and forced a few mouthfuls of his nameless food down. He stood, gave a curt nod to his colleagues, and swept away down the Great Hall to be swallowed up by the corridors of Hogwarts.

Once in his rooms, he glanced at the countless books adorning his walls. The knowledge they offered was breathtaking, and the fact they were aesthetically pleasing to him as decoration was a bonus.

His long fingers stroked the spines of his leather-bound volumes. He began running his hands along the shelves as he scrutinised the titles, pausing occasionally to select one for closer inspection. Soon, he had a pile of muggle classics ready for his colleagues.

Weary from the incidents of the last few days, of the duels, drinking, and unwanted emotion, he decided to go to his chamber to sleep.

It was very like what the Room of Requirement had provided when he was sick. The dark ebony, four poster bed was grandiose and impressively canopied by deep green, velvet coverings. The walls were a warm cream reaching up with plaster moulding to clasp the lofty ceiling, upon which roses held the chains to black chandeliers that little crystals dropped from like rain frozen in time. A fireplace also adorned one wall and its flickering flame added colour and drama to the room. Bedside cabinets were nestled on either side of the four poster.

Snape sat heavily on the high bed and bent to take off his footwear. Having relieved his feet of the pointed dragon hide boots, he swung them up onto the mattress and collapsed fully-clothed into sleep.

His dreams were fitful and confusing. He was looking for someone; perhaps Lily, as it was usually her that haunted his slumber. He could feel another's horror and silent crying that he had witnessed before.

When someone shouted his name, he woke up with a start. The charmed window in his room showed the moon breaking through autumnal clouds, its beams resting across his bed in a wonderful recreation of the moonlight.

Rubbing a weary hand across his forehead, he mused, 'How did I fall asleep so quickly?' He groaned at the rude awakening and listened to his shortness of breath, feeling his heart seeming to punch against the wall of his chest. 'Damn nightmares! I need dreamless sleep.'

The professor sat up to retrieve the potion, only to remember that Granger had taken it. He fumbled in his bedside cabinet in the hope of discovering a spare vial, but could not find one.

"Lumos!" he snapped and directed the light at the drawer.

Nothing was there except for an old book. He picked up the worn, little tome and turned it over. The title glittered gold against the green backdrop, and it proclaimed itself to be Palgrave's Golden Treasury.

Sitting back against his pillows, he opened the book and read the inscription contained within quietly in his head.

'I will go with thee

and be thy guide,

In thy most need

to go by thy side.

Sev,

This is my gift to you. I hope it will bring you light when it's dark.

Guiding you in moments of need, if you have any.

Be careful when reading, it will bring out the muggle in you.

Lily

For the first time in years, he read those beloved words without a desperate pain. Just the sight of the book had calmed his racing heart.

Snape randomly opened the little book of poetry and the pages fell open near the middle, revealing a poem he had read many, many times; Love's Philosophy, by Percy Bysshe Shelley.

Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he again felt the tumult of his dream. Sighing heavily, he began to read the poem out loud in the hope of calming his nerves and bringing back sleep.

His hushed, resonant timbre flowed over the prose like velvet chocolate, throaty and full, and as he read, the words of the poet washed over him in a calming and soothing wave.

Indeed, kisses had always been worth nothing to him, and if Lily couldn't kiss him, then kissing was worthless. At least, he had always thought so, but as his eyes closed, his last thought was certainly unexpected.

The book slid from his hands and dropped to the floor.

* * *

The next morning was bright with autumn colours. Bronzed and golden leaves spun in the air above the iron railed street outside of Grimmauld Place, hovering for a moment, and then fluttering to the road as they were carried by the October breeze.

The occupants of number twelve were up and enjoying the luxury of a day off, for once all together.

Hermione had a slight headache from the fall the day before, but was otherwise in excellent spirits, having assured her friends that she slept surprisingly well.

Kreacher was happily placing breakfast on the table for his family. The house-elf looked clean, well kept, and cheerful.

A tapping at the kitchen window made them all look up. The bright yellow eyes that stared through the window and the sharp hooked beak that rapped on the pane declared it to be an eagle owl.

Ron stood up and opened the window. The owl swooped overhead to land gracefully at the table and lifted its talons with an aloof air. Harry untied the message attached to the bird's leg and began to read it.

After a few moments, he lifted his head up and said, "It's from Draco Malfoy, wanting to know if he can meet us here this afternoon. I'm fine with it. Do you two have any objections?"

"I object to his ferrety face, but I guess I can put up with it for an hour," Ron answered glibly.

Harry looked toward Hermione questioningly and she nodded mutely.

He grabbed a quill from the battered French dresser set against the far wall. Scribbling quickly, he penned his response and carefully tied it onto the waiting animal.

Hermione proffered an owl treat to the stately creature, which it ignored completely and flew through the window once again.

"Yep, that owl's got Malfoy written all over it!" Ron smirked.

Later that afternoon, the trio began to prepare for their visitor and at the elective time, Harry went outside of number twelve and waited along the street.

A wizard, well-heeled and wearing a tailored, grey jacket and a black, polo neck sweater, strolled up the street with his hands in his pockets, blond hair covering one eye.

The usual interchange of conversation between them flowed.

"Potter."

"Malfoy."

After an awkward moment, Harry began to speak, "Look, Draco, I'm sorry about this... I... Well, I have to do this. Obscuro!"

A blindfold immediately attached itself to Malfoy's head, covering his eyes, and he exclaimed, "What the f-?!"

"Honestly, I'm sorry. I will explain, but we need to get you off the street before a neighbour sees you," interrupted Harry before the vicious swearing tirade could start.

Grabbing Malfoy by the arm, he apparated them both into his own house.

"For the love of Morgana, you could have warned me, Potter! Or do you think vomit would be a nice addition to your floor?"

"Sorry, I forget some wizards are bad travelers."

"I am not a bad traveler, I just don't like side-along, and I really don't like it while blindfolded!"

"Bet you're a disappointment to your Slytherin girlfriends then." Harry snickered.

"Just take the Bloody blindfold off now!"

"Ok, Ok, calm down." He removed the blindfold with a swish of his wand and explained, "I had to do that. This house still has stacks of protection on it, and if you saw the house reveal itself, or entered as a willing guest, then its protections would be lost."

"What makes you think you still need protection?" asked Malfoy as he looked around the gloomy house with interest.

"There are still a handful of free Death Eaters that would love to finish me off."

"Surely not only Death Eaters want you dead!"

"Yeah, like you're Mr. Popular at the moment."

Malfoy scowled and conceded reluctantly, "Yes, well, that's what I want to talk about."

"Come upstairs; let's sit in the drawing room." Harry led the way up the old, creaking stairs, glad that Mrs. Black's portrait was keeping her ugly trap shut behind the curtain, for once.

As they stepped into the drawing room, Hermione and Ron glanced up from where they were sat talking.

Harry waved his hand at a vacant sofa, and Malfoy hitched the top of his trousers up as he sat down, placing an arm across the sofa rest with his fingers dangling over the side. He looked the picture of elegance, nonchalance, and confidence, but with close inspection, his right foot twitched and betrayed his actual feelings.

Despite his best intentions to remain civil, Ron glared at the Slytherin as though he was an intruder.

"Weasel, Granger," Malfoy acknowledged them in his habitual manner.

"Ferret," was Ron's equally charming greeting.

Hermione merely nodded and tried to form a smile.

Malfoy was surprised at the small effort from the girl whom he had tried to debase from every angle in school. He remembered hexing her teeth and making cruel jibes about her appearance, as well as the countless times he had called her a mudblood. He also remembered, with horror, how his aunt had cursed her viciously in his own home. Wincing at the memory, he knew too well how it had felt to be punished by aunty Bella. So, the tiny twitch of her lips was unexpected. He suddenly realised he had been staring at her for a little too long and he turned away sharply and waited for Potter to say something.

Harry didn't get the chance to speak further, though, as Kreacher could be heard hopping about outside the door in excitement. His precious locket, belonging to his dead master Regulus, was bouncing up and down on his bare, wrinkled chest. The scrawny house-elf was elated by the fact that one of the decedents of the Black family was back in his house.

Harry sighed and opened the door again. "Kreacher, stop jumping about! What do you want?"

"Would Masters like some tea?" the creature whispered hesitantly.

"That's very kind of you, Kreacher, we would love some," Hermione called to him.

"Yeah, that would be nice, thank you," said Harry quickly before Hermione could criticise his manners.

The old house-elf did his usual, funny, little wobble that was presumed to be a bow and slunk away.

"Ok, to business," Harry stated as he took a seat next to Malfoy. "What's the problem, Draco? I understand you're worried about the Heroes Ball."

"Yeah, a bit. I don't think my appearance there will be appreciated. To be honest, I normally wouldn't care, but at the moment, my father is not well, my mother is missing, and I really don't think I can handle the pressure." His face flushed a little in embarrassment at this confession of weakness. He cleared his throat. "However, I would like to speak to my godfather, and if the possibility is there that I can gain more information about my mother, I will go. It was just… Well… I was hoping you might lend me your invisibility cloak, Po- Harry," he finished quickly.

Harry sat for a minute in silent contemplation. "No, I'm sorry, Draco."

Malfoy immediately looked crestfallen and humiliated to have made the request.

"It's not what you think, but I'm sure your reception won't be as bad as you imagine. You need to face the world again. I've heard that, other then work, you go nowhere and have seen no one. It will ruin your whole life, Draco, if you hide. Go to the ball and pull the plaster off quick. It might hurt a bit, but then it will be over and you can heal. If I'm wrong, I will give you the cloak at the ball to disappear under. I honestly think you won't need it. As I said before, when you're with me, I doubt you will be questioned."

Malfoy's sharp features relaxed slightly while he listened to Harry's words.

Hermione cleared her throat nervously. "I would like to help. As lovely as the thought of you and Harry arriving hand in hand to the ball is, Ginny will probably hate it, and personally, I think people will be suspicious of both of your intentions…" She stopped to smirk slightly at Harry and Malfoy's mirrored looks of horror. "Precisely! I have a plus one invite, and no date. Maybe, Draco, you could play my date. Shut up, Ron!" She felt Ron start to bluster by her side and turning to the Slytherin, she waited for the insults.

"Erm, yeah ok, Granger, that might work," he responded, shocked at her offer.

Hermione was likewise startled by the acceptance.

"It won't do me any harm to be seen arm in arm with a war hero. It would be good if people saw it, especially when they know how I've treated you in the past. And it's definitely better than going with Potter. Thank you, Granger."

"Alright, you need to call me Hermione or this won't work."

"Oh, of course. Thank you, Hermione. I look forward to our date. Shut it, weasel!" Ron had started again and he rolled his eyes at him.

"It's a fake date, Ferret, don't forget!"

Hermione jabbed Ron in the ribs. "It's Draco, Ron, use his name. Same goes for you, Draco. Play nice, boys"

They both growled slightly at each other.

Kreacher bustled in with the tea as Malfoy stood to leave.

"Sit down, and have some tea with us. Tell us about your job," Harry said in an effort to make amends.

"Not much to tell," Malfoy remarked and sat back down. The extensive tapestry on the far wall caught his eye, and he exclaimed, "Hey, is that my name on that family tree?!"

"Yes it is, but if Mrs. Black was still alive, you would now be a singed scorch mark like Sirius. Just drinking tea with us would have had her blasting her wand at your picture, obliterating your name from the Noble House of Black! She was a lovely woman. We keep her portrait behind a curtain downstairs. You can meet her when you leave. I bet you've never had an old hag scream 'filth' and 'blood traitor' at you! It will be a novel experience for you."

"I will pass, thanks, although it sounds charming."

They all laughed, drank tea, and allowed Kreacher to fuss over Malfoy and they enjoyed the effects of forgiveness and friendship.

* * *

At the same time as this meeting took place, another meeting was being held in the Hag's Head.

Perry knocked on the door of a private room in the pub.

"Enter."

Opening the door, the barman greeted Rabastan and informed him that a young lady was desirous of a meeting with him.

The beautiful Chinese girl had startled Perry. She was too innocent in appearance to be wanting to meet a notorious dark wizard in such a den of iniquity. However, he merely raised his eyebrows in surprise and told her to wait for a moment. Further surprise awaited him with the discovery that Rabastan seemed to expect her arrival.

Bustling back to the bar, he escorted her up to the room. Rabastan greeted the girl cordially and Perry backed away, closing the door behind him.

Temptation got the better of him and he bent an ear to the keyhole. In all of the years he had known the Death Eater, he had never seen him so much as look at a woman and now, seemingly, he had invited a young girl into his hired room.

He heard the usual greetings, and then Rabastan said, "Excuse me a moment, there is an insect to dispose of."

There was a loud bang and a muffled yell. Soon after, Perry scuttled down the stairs holding his bleeding ear.

"I take it you are ready to fool that idiot Weasley boy a little more?" Rabastan looked Narcissa up and down in her guise.

"It is admittedly not difficult to do. I am still working on finding a way to Bill Weasley through the boy. Hopefully, tonight should be helpful."

"Does my brother know about your teenage date?"

"Do you want him to?"

"No, maybe not. I've had all the tantrums I can stand from him this week."

Cho's face arranged itself into an unfamiliar sneer. "Yes, they are regrettable."

"Enough of my brother! Did you get it?"

A pale white, delicate hand reached out to Rabastan and opened to reveal a tiny stone.

Erie laughter echoed round the room.


	21. The masks we wear

"This seems like a nice place, Cho." Ron helped his date remove her coat, looked around the quiet little Italian restaurant and caught the eye of a waiter, who immediately walked over to greet him.

"Table for two, sir?" the server queried as he ushered the couple further into the building.

"Yes, please," responded Ron, trying his best to appear mature and courteous.

Cho glided across the floor behind them, dressed in a lovely, pale blue, mandarin gown, and he could sense every man's eye on her in the venue. Part of him was very pleased that she was with him, but the other part hated the attention she got; it made him feel a little bit wary of her.

The waiter seated them in a secluded corner at a cosy table for two and lit the candle in the middle to create the required atmosphere, then he went away to fetch the wine list.

"I love this restaurant. I come here a lot; they always have the same waiters and the food is perfect," Cho said while gazing towards her cheery, redheaded friend through the soft glow of the single flame.

"I've never been here before, but it isn't far from Hermione's house, so I'm surprised I've not noticed it before."

The Ravenclaw went a little bit quiet after that comment. Harry had mentioned to him how she rarely liked to talk about Hermione, and while this disturbed him somewhat, he did wonder if it was a hint of jealousy. If so, he was a little bit flattered.

Abruptly, Cho gracefully stood up and pushed her chair back. "I'm just going to the ladies."

In a surprisingly old-fashioned gesture, Ron also rose to his feet as she left, earning him a small smile from the woman.

"What wine do you want?" he called after her.

"You choose," she answered as she disappeared into a hallway leading off from the main room.

The waiter had returned and stood politely behind Ron, pulling out his chair as the young man lowered himself back to the seat.

"Which wine would you like, sir?"

"Erm, I dunno." Ron frantically read over the list, feeling uncouth and juvenile when he realised he was unfamiliar with almost every entry. "What does my girlfriend normally order?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't think I have seen her here before."

"Oh, you're new, are you?"

"No, sir, this is my father's restaurant and I am here nearly everyday," the waiter replied with a raised eyebrow. Suddenly, he schooled his features, remembering that the customer is always right, and gave an apologetic smile, adding, "I'm not that good with faces, so maybe she has been here before. As for the wine choice, I'm sorry I don't know her preference, but I'm happy to make an elegant recommendation. Maybe this light and refreshing Pinot Grigio?"

"How much is that one?"

The waiter coughed lightly and said, "I believe it is one of our more modestly priced wines at about seventeen pounds."

Ron did a quick calculation in his head. "So, that's around three Galleons and six sickles?"

"I beg your pardon, sir?"

"Oh no, it's nothing. Yes, that one's fine," he hurriedly talked over his mistake while his mind reeled at the thought of his mother's face if she heard the cost of the wine.

When Cho came back, he forgot about the waiter not recognising her, he forgot about the three Galleons and six sickles, he forgot about everything except for her. Ron just breathed in the ambiance, the conversation, and the stunningly beautiful girl, who was sipping wine opposite of him.

The meal was glorious and he paid the bill afterward, albeit clumsily like a tourist. Stepping outside the bistro, they walked together hand in hand up Finchley high street, the bustle and the noise barely penetrating Ron's ears. Cho happily strolled alongside him, her long tailored coat billowing in the autumn breeze. The lights of the city twinkled and the upper floors of the Georgian four-story houses began to glow.

Oblivious to the busy nightlife streaming past them, Cho stopped walking and swung round to face Ron. Grabbing his lapel, she swiftly pulled him closer to her and raised her head to look up at him.

"Blimey, Cho!" Ron exclaimed as he felt himself press flush against her.

Leaning towards her, he captured her cool lips in his own, closing his eyes automatically.

His hands wound around her small waist, feeling the ends of her ebony hair tickle against his entwined fingers. Cho kept tight hold of his lapel, her hands trapped between them. She returned his kiss timidly at first, but within moments, it became apparent that she was the dominant participant as the control became all hers.

Breathlessly, Ron pulled away and was once again conscious of the bustling crowds merging around them.

"Wow… Nice... Shall we go home?"

Cho nodded eagerly. "Let's find a place to apparate."

They linked their arms and returned to walking, found a quiet street near the tube station and apparated to Grimmauld Place.

Outside of number twelve, Ron explained the enchantments placed on the house and Cho submitted to the blindfold. On entering the hallway, he removed the blindfold and brushed a chaste kiss across her cheek.

"I can't stay long, Ron, work tomorrow."

"Yeah, I know." He hid the disappointment in his voice admirably.

Thankfully, Ron could see that Harry and Hermione were not about and it appeared he had the house to himself. Leading Cho through to the kitchen, he paused to make sure Mrs. Black was covered up and saw that she was. He sighed in relief before ushering Cho into the kitchen and seating her on a rocking chair by the enormous unlit fireplace.

"Incendio," and the fire burned happily at his command. "Tea?"

"Yes, please." Cho smiled charmingly.

Ron stumbled a little bit on his way to the kettle and busied himself making the tea, aware of the silence surrounding them.

"Here you go, then." Ron handed her a large, chipped, Chudley Cannons mug.

Cho giggled and accepted it from him.

"Yeah, I know, not very elegant," he said ruefully.

"Doesn't Hermione like a delicate cup?"

"Yeah, and she hides them in her room. Apparently, we have elephant feet for hands." Ron was surprised she mentioned Hermione, but raised no further comment as he sat across from her to drink his tea. He was uncomfortable to clearly hear each gulp he took, but he hoped that Cho couldn't.

Slowly, their conversation picked up again until Cho said, "I'd better go, Ron."

She stood and the redhead reached out to take the mug from her hand, his fingers gently brushing hers for a moment during the exchange. Placing the cup on the hearth, he turned again to embrace her and nuzzled her neck inexpertly.

She placed her arms around him and kissed his ear. "Imperio," a hushed and seductive whisper whistled around his senses, setting his nerve endings tingling and penetrating the frontal lobe.

Blankly, Ron moved back from her with a dreamy expression creeping across his face.

"Ronald, I've got to go. I've had a lovely time. I want to see you again and I want to take this further. It would be easier if I could just come here, maybe surprise you. You trust me and you said you would do anything for me. I want a commitment. I need to know it's not just a fling… I'd like the proverbial key to your home."

Ron hesitated at this forward speech but found himself lost in yet another of Cho's dominant kisses.

"Yeah, babe, that's fine. I... want... that too," he responded breathlessly. "You can visit me here at number twelve Grimmauld Place whenever you want."

"Thank you, Ron. I will see you at work. You are very sweet to me."

A faint expression of pity crossed Cho's face as she kissed him briefly, and then left a confused and frustrated Ronald Weasley in the kitchen of the old, dreary abode.

* * *

When Ron had left for his date, Harry and Hermione started to revise for the N.E.W.T.s in their Hogwarts study room. After a while, they put down their quills and made some tea.

Flopping onto the sofa in a graceless sprawl, Harry flexed his cramping hand muscles and moaned, "Oh, so much writing!"

Hermione ignored him and plunked herself down next to him. She lay back against the opposite arm of the chair, and then flung her feet up and onto Harry's lap with a sigh.

"I'm sorry, do I look like a footrest?"

"Well, as you've rested your homework on my brains all evening, the least you can do is rub my aches!"

"Ergh!" Harry stared at the appendages with amused disgust. "You're wearing your skankiest socks too; your big, grey, fluffy, bobbled thingies. Honestly, woman, you'll never get a man flaunting these babies."

She smirked in response. "Yet my feet are still on your lap! Shut up and rub them or that's it, no more homework help."

He reluctantly squeezed the ball of her foot through the thick sock. "What would Ginny say?" he muttered with a sigh.

"Nothing, she would rub the other foot. I did her transfiguration homework."

Harry grinned. "So tell me, why did you offer to go to the ball with Malfoy?"

"Better than going alone and it helps Draco, I think. It might help me, as well."

"Help you with what, Hermione?"

"I'm not sure… I'm a bit confused."

He looked at her sharply, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Are you attracted to Draco? Because I know the war's over and everything, but some prejudices don't die. That's one to stay clear of, and to be honest, I don't think Draco would be interested. I'm not being cruel, I just don't want to see you hurt."

Hermione smiled and then winced when Harry increased the pressure of his massage. "I should be offended. It's a good job that Hogwarts gave me a thick skin. No, I'm not attracted to Draco, although he's a lot better looking than he used to be. I'm using him and he's using me, so it's a perfect date."

Harry's face became even more suspicious as he furthered his questioning. "What are you using him for?" His mind reeled at the possibilities.

"I'm not exactly sure. To get a reaction, I suppose."

He abruptly stopped working on Hermione's fluffy feet. "A reaction from who?"

She remained silent and avoided meeting his eyes.

"You know you can't pull the McLaggen trick again. That didn't work, anyway. You should have gone out with Ron while you had the chance. You can't want things just because you can't have them," he lectured her with concern in his voice.

Hermione swung her feet off his lap and asked, "Why would you think of Ron?"

"I dunno. It's... It's not me, is it?"

She laughed, leaned over and punched him on the arm. "No, sorry, Harry, you're not the chosen one! You're all Ginny's. You are family and that's how I've always felt about you. Gosh! The look on your face, that was quite funny!" she exclaimed and hoped her friend had been distracted from the question.

Unfortunately, Harry was tenacious. "I didn't think so, really, but you don't see anybody else, you don't hang around Neville and the rest of the gang. I can't think of who you're trying to get a reaction from."

"Perhaps that's the point. Maybe I'm trying to get a reaction from anyone."

"No... No, I don't think so. You don't fool me, I know you too well and you don't do random things; you plan, everything you do is thought out. So who? You're always with us, you don't talk about anyone but us and the profess... No! Noooo! You're joking!" He was incredulous at his own reasoning and the blushing woman to his side shifted away from him nervously.

"I don't know what you mean," she mumbled, averting her eyes.

"Yes, you jolly well do! Please, tell me I'm wrong. This is worse than Draco! He's old enough to be your father, nineteen years older than you, in fact, and he's ugly, mean-spirited. Why, in all that's holy, would you entertain any ideas about him? You're too old for a teacher's crush, and he's no Lockhart, either! Oh please, tell me I'm wrong."

Hermione flinched through his impassioned speech, each word striking her like a physical blow. 'He's right,' she thought, 'it's the stupidest notion I've ever entertained.'

Silence settled on the room and she finally lifted her head to look at Harry's concerned features.

"I don't know what you mean," she repeated her lie quietly.

"Snape!" spat Harry

"Professor!" she bit back.

"And there you have it! Wrong and creepy, Hermione."

"It's nothing, Harry. I just need to get out more and I need to see more people. Draco, the ball… well, all that will help."

"Good, that's good, more people. Yep, that's what you need, then you will forget whatever this is. I still don't understand you. The man hates you. You're a heroine; I could take you out now and you would have the pick of any available wizard."

"I think that might be my problem and I think I blame you a bit. I used to obey rules, but you and Ron have spent the last eight years of my life breaking that down. Now I don't want easy, or normal, or even conventional. I want what I can't have, just like you said earlier. After nearly half my life spent trampling on rules and adventuring, you'd think I would have had enough. Since the new prophecy, I've started to realise I would miss the danger... I'm damaged." She began to cry softly.

"We are all damaged, Hermione, but nothing's beyond repair. Let's fix it."

"How?" She sniffed miserably.

"We try to have fun and see what happens." He pulled her into a hug and they sat that way for a while, comforted by each other, then Harry shuddered.

"Harry?" Hermione released him slightly.

"Sorry," he murmured.

"I know what you're thinking."

"Ergh, I hope not." He shook off the disturbing thought.

"Nothing will happen; it's one sided. Like you said, I should be too old for a crush. Even if the professor knew, he would not encourage or be interested in my attention, and his reaction would most likely be the same as yours, only mixed with mockery and spite. Oh my days! What's wrong with me?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, trying to choose the right wording. "Don't be so sure. He's a snarky, bitter old sot, but he's still very much a man, and you are lovely," he remarked fondly.

"Really? I must look like the very devil at the moment. I'm all snot and socks," she said in surprise at his affectionate words.

"Yes, well, at the moment, you're a veritable harridan, but when you're not crying, when you're sparkling over a new discovery, or dressed to impress, you are breathtaking! So, keep away from Snape, find a young man that will appreciate that sparkle, one that won't try and snuff it out. And don't tell Ginny I've described you as breathtaking; I don't think she would hear it as the brotherly pep talk it is."

Hermione lips curved gently into a watery smile. "Thank you, Harry. I won't tell Ginny; I don't want to be bat-bogied into next week! You are very sweet to try and make me feel better."

"Let's talk about the ball. I've had an idea," Harry swiftly changed the subject, hoping that the professor's ugly head would not loom up again in his friend's thoughts.

He had decided that, although last minute, he should ask the headmistress to send a further note to all those attending the ball to arrive masked. This would make it easier on those who didn't want to attract much attention, like himself or Draco.

"A masquerade?! How exciting! That would certainly help Draco ease in, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, it would. I'm also thinking, because we have such a huge mix of young and old, muggle-born and wizard-born, that it might be a good idea if everyone made a song request, then hopefully there will be dance music for every genre and taste."

"That's a great idea! What song will you choose?"

"I don't know. I need to think about it. I will send a message to the headmistress now; see if she has time to send out the alterations by owl." Harry sat, quickly wrote out the epistle, and when he was finished, he called out, "Kreacher!"

With a pop, the ancient house-elf appeared in the study. "Yes, master?"

"Hello, Kreacher. How are you?" Hermione asked cautiously.

"I'm very well, mistress." His long ears wiggled slightly as he waited to find out the reason he had been summoned.

"Sorry to bother you, but would you deliver this to the headmistress?"

Kreacher promptly snatched the letter from his hands and disappeared without a word.

As it turned out, Professor McGonagall was delighted with the suggestion and sent out the new instructions to all attendees immediately.

* * *

Draco Malfoy sat on his bed in his huge bedroom and nervously bit his nails. Jittering, pent-up energy made his feet tap on the floor.

'Calm down, calm down, calm down,' he chanted over and over to himself.

Since the last battle, his panic attacks were becoming more frequent, with the memories of his own actions bringing bile to his mouth. The abuse he had suffered at the hands of Aunty Bella, although now a thing of the past, left a worrying twitch in his body that displayed itself under times of stress.

He reached over and rummaged inside his bedside cabinet, pulling out a packet half full of cigarettes. His long, pale fingers fumbled at the carton and a few seconds passed before one of the slender tubes was trembling in his nervous hold. "Incendio," he thought and the tip flared up then settled to a smolder. He raised it to his lips and inhaled lightly, feeling the initial burn in his lungs. He took a few long, slow draws of the cigarette and slowly blew the smoke out through his mouth and nose.

A filthy muggle habit, his father had screamed at him the last time he caught him in the act. He knew it was a bad practice, but it was just one more to add to a long list.

He held his hands up to his face and watched them stop shaking as his body relaxed. The cigarette hung limply from his lips. 'Now would be a great time to drink some bourbon,' he mused thoughtfully.

Draco watched the smoke curl in the air and reflected on his day. He wondered what his father would say about his date for the ball, but worrying about it wasn't going to help, so he shrugged unpleasant contemplation off for the moment.

Carefully, he vanished his cigarette end away when it had become nothing more than a red hot filter and waited for his father to return home.

"Draco!"

"Yes, father, I'm coming down!" he shouted.

Standing up, he smoothed his clothes and checked for ash. He flicked his hair from his face and then made his way down to the large foyer to welcome his father home.

Lucius Malfoy had the aura of a beaten man, but it was hard to muster up sympathy for him. Cruel, selfish, and unerringly deviant, he had built himself a life of horror and a legacy of disappointment. The only thing that mattered, other then money, had been taken from him and the boy he barely recognised was sweeping down the stairs towards him looking shifty and nervous.

"Son, how are you?"

"I'm well, father. Any news on mother?"

Lucius hesitated imperceptibly and lied proficiently, "No, none at all, I'm afraid."

"Didn't think so… I've got a date for the ball."

"A fine young man like yourself, I'm not really surprised. This is hardly breaking news, Draco," his father replied flippantly.

"Her name is Hermione Granger."

There was a moment of silence before Lucius raised his eyebrows and spoke up, "What was it, Imperio or a love potion? You idiot boy! I've not got the power to keep you out of Azkaban now. Why would you, anyway? Is it for revenge on her? Why would you want her? The war hasn't changed everything, foolish child."

"No, it hasn't, but it should have done. We will be at war again over this issue, probably before the next generation is grown… People don't learn! You don't learn!"

He recoiled in shock at his only son speaking to him with such disrespect. "Be careful, son, and remember who you are talking to."

Lucius raised his ebony cane and jabbed hard at Draco's thin body, causing him to grasp his side and bend over slightly to ease the pain of the rough stab.

Looking up from his doubled over position, he spat out the rage he had held back since the fall of the Dark Lord, "I know exactly who I'm talking to! A sad old fool who's frightened my mother is away and who ruined my life! I'm going to the ball with Hermione as friends, and with her consent! I'm grateful to her for showing me mercy when I have treated her like an animal… Enough! Father, enough! I've had enough of you!" he screamed out.

His father shook with fury and lifted his cane up to lash at him again, but Draco caught it and wrenched it from his hands with enough force to propel the older wizard across the hallway to slam into the stately front door. Lucius growled as his back struck the door handle and his head snapped forward from the impact.

"You can't hurt me or manipulate me anymore," hissed Draco.

He threw the cane to the side and advanced on his father. Grabbing onto the man's robes aggressively, Draco looked at his trembling features and a wave of unbidden self-pity hit him.

His head lowered and fell against his father's chest. "I wanted you to be proud of me. I want to-" he broke off and started to cry in earnest. "I... want to love you, but all I've ever gotten from you is your disappointment. I… I want my mother."

Lucius listened to his son fall apart and knew the blame fell at his feet. In an uncharacteristic movement, he clutched at his weeping boy and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"You mustn't forget to buy flowers for your date," he said quietly.

The sudden, demonstrative contact surprised and unnerved Draco and he pushed himself back out of reach. Wiping his face with his hand, he turned to walk away.

Commenting like nothing was amiss and ignoring the painful interaction that had taken place, Lucius called out at the retreating back of his only son, "How will you get to the ball?"

The young man halted and stiffened up. He knew what his proud father was trying to do, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough.

But he could still be civil. "By floo. At the house she shares with Potter, it is open to Hogwarts."

"Where does she live?"

"I don't know. Would you trust a former Death Eater to be a secret keeper? Because that's what I am, thanks to you." Draco resumed walking to the stairs.

His father took some shallow breaths and he continued to lean against the door. "I am sorry and I am proud of you! Your mother loves you!" he shouted in panic.

There was no response from the young man and his steps did not falter in the slightest.

"I love you," Lucius added quickly, saying the unfamiliar words as fast as possible.

At this, Draco ran up the stairs, his crying clearly audible and echoing faintly through the empty manor.

Only when he had gone did Lucius allow a tear to escape for the son he had damaged.

* * *

Hermione was in Flourish & Blotts, busily searching for a book on masquerades. Harry, Ron and Draco had no idea what to wear, and even though she already had her dress, she still needed to choose a mask that complimented it.

She soon stumbled across a book entitled The History of the Masquerade and a brief skim through the pages revealed this to be the exact volume she needed; it detailed myths, legends, masks and costume. She completed her purchase and hurriedly made her way home to study the information contained within the pages.

Curled up on the sofa, she began to read and was soon immersed in a world of colour, comedy and vice. Hermione could picture the dancers rhythmically moving together in a Venetian waltz, ladies fanning themselves with feathered fans, gentleman strutting around like cockerels, displaying their plumage to all who looked, and coquettes holding bejewelled masks just inches from their faces on golden sticks, with their tightly corseted bosoms rising and falling from the circles of the dance.

'Beautiful, but a little sinister,' she thought.

She set about learning some of the characters of the Venetian masquerade, in the hope of choosing suitable outfits for her friends.

'Harlequin, or Arlecchino in Italian, is arguably the most famous of the Commedia characters. Arlecchino (Harlequin) is a servant of Pantalone. He is extremely poor with a patchwork costume that has evolved to pattern of red, green, and blue diamonds with gold trim. Harlequin carries a baton which he sometimes uses to bash other characters, credited with leading to the modern day slapstick. He is portrayed as stupid and gluttonous and is very flexible and acrobatic. He would often try to win the heart of Columbina or other women, but usually not with success.'

Hermione jotted down some notes and a description of his mask and attire. "Well, I've found Ron's outfit!" she sniggered to herself.

'Scaramouche, either a young man of adventure or a boasting, swashbuckling officer, often Spanish, dressed-to-kill in cape, feathered hat, high boots, with sword in belt. He told extraordinary tales about how he beat a whole army of Turks and carried off the beard of the Sultan, but when there was a hint of real danger he was the first to run away. He made love to the none-too-innocent servant maid, and got trashed by her Harlequin lover.'

Again, she made notes about the costume. "And there's Draco!" She outright laughed this time, before continuing her study.

'Colombina is free, insolent, not slave of love bonds, sometimes brilliant, vane always, chatterer, gossiper, always prone to intrigue at somebody else's expenses. A sort of Harlequin in female clothes, and in fact, she comes up in certain setups as Harlequina (Arlecchinetta), with a patched costume duplicate of Harlequin's. She is usually Harlequin's companion, and the only woman to sometimes wear a mask on stage, Colombina brings that female pepper and intransigence to the plot.'

"Hello Cho!" muttered Hermione, once more writing it all down.

'Ok, now Ginny.' Hermione thought long and hard about her friend. She knew that Ginny would want to look alluring, and she would definitely be unamused by Hermione's character assaults. She struggled with the characters as they just didn't seem right. Checking the contents page, she turned to the chapter entitled Myths and Popular Culture, and the first thing that drew her eye was the picture of a masked creature shrouded in robes of red and black.

The Masque of the Red Death was the heading, and Hermione began to read once more.

'_The story takes place at the castellated abbey of the "happy and dauntless and sagacious" Prince Prospero. Prospero and one thousand other nobles have taken refuge in this walled abbey to escape the Red Death, a terrible plague with gruesome symptoms that has swept over the land. Victims feel overcome by convulsive agony and sweat blood instead of water. The plague is said to kill within half an hour. Prospero and his court are presented as indifferent to the sufferings of the population at large, intending to await the end of the plague in luxury and safety behind the walls of their secure refuge, having welded the doors shut._

_One night, Prospero holds a masquerade ball to entertain his guests in seven colored rooms of the abbey. Six of the rooms are each decorated and illuminated in a specific color: Blue, purple, green, orange, white, and violet. The last room is decorated in black and is illuminated by a scarlet light- "a deep blood color", because of this chilling pair of colors, very few guests are brave enough to venture into the seventh room. The same room is also the location of a large ebony clock that ominously clangs at each hour, upon which everyone stops talking or dancing and the orchestra stops playing. Once the chiming stops, everyone acts like nothing happened and continue on with the masquerade. At the chiming of midnight, the revelers and Prospero notice one figure in a dark, blood-splattered robe resembling a funeral shroud, with an extremely realistic mask resembling a stiffened corpse, and with the traits of the Red Death, which all at the ball have been desperate to escape. Gravely insulted, Prospero demands to know the identity of the mysterious guest so that they can hang him. When nobody (out of fear) dares to approach the figure, instead letting him pass through the seven chambers, the Prince pursues him with a drawn dagger until he is cornered in the seventh room, the black room with the scarlet-tinted windows. When the figure turns to face him, the Prince lets out a sharp cry and falls dead. The enraged and terrified revelers surge into the black room and forcibly remove the mask and robe, only to find to their horror that there is no solid form underneath either. Only now do they realize (too late) that the figure is actually the Red Death itself, and all of the guests contract and succumb to the disease. The final line of the story sums up: "And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all."_

_The costume figures in many of the Masquerade balls held in Venice. The Character was further immortalised by the Phantom of the Opera, who choose this guise for a masquerade held at his theatre._

_The Red Death was said to be Death himself, who would not be cheated or tricked. Only he was master over death, using his own cloak, said to be torn from the vale of shadow, he hid himself to strike those who dared try to deceive and evade him unawares_.'

Hermione held her breath for a second. 'Harry's cloak!' she realised with shock and wonder. 'Harry will have to go as Red Death, but how strange that myth relates so strongly to him.'

She resolved to broach the subject later with him.

"Hmmnnn, Ginny, Ginny, Ginny… What for you, I wonder?"

'Dama, which presents many elegant variations, corresponds to the ladies of the Cinquecento (the period of Titian) who covered themselves in jewels, expensive clothing and elaborate coifs. In our days, this is probably the most popular and most beautiful mask type used during the Venetian Carnival.'

'That will have to do. She wanted beautiful, so I'm sure that will work and the Red Death can dance with whomever he likes, after all,' she decided. 'Now for me; I have my dress and I need vague like Ginny's character.'

'Inamorata (the Lover, female): the male lover's interest, often ignorant and naïve, she is the opposite of Colombina; she is not free, she is bound by ties of love and convention. She is polite and respectful, sometimes a sorrowful figure, and she rarely wears a mask as she has nothing to hide.'

'That will work for me, I think. The costume is nice and vague, as is the mask. Easy! It's just a shame I haven't got the counterpart to go with, but best keep Draco as Scaramouche. I don't want to give him any ideas.'

The counterpart was Inamorato (the Lover, male): an eloquent and attractive man.

Hermione ruminated over her choices once again.

* * *

Rabastan paced the floor of his rented room. His hand twitched and involuntary spasms forced him to open his fingers and look again at the little stone hidden within his bony grasp.

Narcissa had insisted that the Resurrection Stone would not work properly without the correct ceremony, the form of which she was endeavouring to discover. Use of the stone at this point would only bring back a shadow of the person who had died.

'The Dark Lord would prefer the shadow to the nothing; shadows can still inspire fear, a shadow can still affect the mind. If I don't use the stone now, he may question my delay... I need to prove to my lord that I am in truth his most loyal servant.'

He continued to stalk back and forth within the small space, muttering with the mania obsessing his soul. The Dark Lord would have to be made aware of who was going to bring him back, he would need to see the struggle and the work. If he returned to full body without seeing the effort, his servant's labour could be taken for granted.

Rabastan halted suddenly and his skeletal hands furtively caressed the stone.

"My lord," he whispered reverently. "See your faithful servant!"

With this, he turned the stone over in his hand as the legends described.

Once, twice and a third time...


	22. Heavens embroidered cloths

The dusty rented room was filled with a still lifeless chill, freezing the soul, repressing, then crushing the heart.

Rabastan was unfazed, he had no heart to crush, and his soul he gave to Voldermort along time ago, so he merely watched as an eerie ghoulish green vapour swirled around the chamber, bathing the battered old furniture in its unholy the light, a body was forming, Rabastan trembled slightly in anticipation, watching the sickening movement of a writhing snake. A vision of evil twisted and turned before him. A grey face , sunken, with slit like nostrils formed in front of him, stretching and flexing its features. The creature raised its head upwards to stare at the ceiling, Its thin arms raised up allowing his elongated bony fingers, adorned by his long gnarled nails to scrape at his face.

Suddenly the imposing phantom clasped his sunken cheeks, his mouth openend wide in horror like an imitation of the scream.

His body whirled round towards Rabastan.

Moving quickly he made to touch the gleeful dark wizard only to grasp air. His eyes blazed red with fury. The Death Eater before him seemed to lose a little of his confidence, retreating slightly towards the door.

"Crucio." Hissed the apparition.

Nothing happened. Voldermort let out a high pitched howl of utter rage and frustration. Rodulphus covered his ears and cowered slightly before him, the room went quiet once more the only sounds being Rabastans quick panicked breaths.

A knock reverberated around the parlour as the landlord stood enraged behind the locked door. "What the hell are you doing screaming like that! I have few punters as it is, I don't need you frightening off my trade!" he shouted through the key hole.

"My apologies, I am experimenting with a new spell, it unfortunately back fired, causing some momentary pain. I'm sorry for my loud exclamation. Rabastan spoke carefully and deliberately, concentrating so as to hide the fear, maintaining his intimidating facade, never taking his eyes of the mass of seething robes and rage in front of him.

"Well, see you don't do it again."

Answered the landlord. He was unwilling to take it further, long term tenants were hard to come by, and Rabastan was intimidating at best. He retreated down to the bar.

When his steps could be heard getting fainter down the stairs,

Rabastan started to speak;

"My lord, my Master, I am your servant." he bowed shakily and continued "I'm attempting to bring you back, this is the beginning of your return to power."

Voldemort's reptilian mouth moved slightly; "I was assured immortality, How was this thwarted?... thwarted ...again and again... now this! back to being the meanest of ghosts. Powerless... Impotent, wandless. I've experienced death at the hands of Harry Potter. What gave you the right, Rabastan, to reverse my unconscious state?" Voldermorts voice was strangely high pitched, cold and fear inspiring, scarlet eyes looked unblinkingly into Rabastans frightened ones. As he did so the monster was delighted to feel the familiar pull of the legilimans, draw him suddenly Into Rabastans mind, All the perverse events leading up to this moment cascaded quickly into his brain.

Rabastan collapsed to the floor still grasping the stone, as his muscle's had seized slightly , involuntarily closing his fist tight. His nails dug into his palms as he fought to repel the dark lord. Voldermort was ruthlessly and viciously penetrating his sullied thoughts. "Ahhh ... it appears there is one avenue of magic left to a ghost. So this body is not all I'm to expect, you imagine yourself capable of achieving what I could not? Poor Rabastan, did you expect honours and accolades from your master? Who are you to presume? You don't want this for me...you want this for your own ambition; an extension of my power...you imagine I will share this with you?...you're not loyal anymore than the coward Wormtail was! I see you used a hallow, the hallow that was mine ...for so many years, unbeknown to me. Dark magic leaves traces ...I can feel the stone...I can feel the old home of my severed soul. " His voice had become soft almost whispered, his questions more rhetoric, emphasising Rabastan's inferiority.

The trembling Wizard's hand started to unclench.

Voldermort's red eyes flashed dangerously.

"Don't you dare! If you drop that stone I disappear."

"But my lord I can't continually hold this stone, I will have to relieve myself of it after a short duration."

"My friend...You should have thought about that, before attempting my return with out all the necessary hallows! But you...worm, wanted a kiss and a pat for your efforts. How disappointing. Now don't lie to me...are you regretting using that stone?... Don't lie, lord voldermort can see you flinch, I can see panic in your eyes. Still your idea has some merit and for that you will have your reward."

Relief swept over Rabastans ashen face.

"My lord... Thank you" he breathed.

"Yes I am merciful am I not? ...Your body will be most comfortable, are you not honoured?"

The realisation of his masters intent Horrified and shocked Rabastan, his reaction was therefore slow, he attempted to drop the stone, he was thwarted in a split second.

"Nooo" Voldermort screeched.

As he spoke his essence slithered closer to the fallen wizards hand.

The ghostly vapour of the dark lords fingers passed through the twitching appendage, belonging to his quivering servant. His spirit began connecting to the stone.

Rabastan frantically tried to drop the tiny rock, but it was adhering to his skin. Smoke and the acidic smell of burning flesh assailed his Senses. A hot searing pain shot through his hand and body, the flesh under the stone began to hiss and melt, his horrified eyes watched the stone sink, fast, into his skin. His hoarse screaming could be heard by the few downstairs in the bar who jumped up in alarm. Rabastan pulled and scrapped with his nails at the rapidly disappearing red hot stone.

Voldermort laughed and cackled.

Just before the stone completely vanished, the spirit that was still laughing, gathered itself into a smoky green wisp; it coiled itself like a snake preparing to attack. With one dart, the vapour flew straight into Rabastans hand, joining with the stone. The skin closed over it, with out blemish. The fallen wizard convulsed grotesquely on the warped and creaky floor boards, his mouth frothing and foaming, his spittle speckled with blood from his bitten tongue.

A banging once again could be heard on the door.

This time the landlord and the barman didn't wait for a response spell blasting the door open, to gaze in horror at the twitching limbs of Rabastan, all alone in his rented chamber.

* * *

"Bill! Bill! Zair ez an owl for you."

The ephemeral woman with long silvery hair tutted impatiently, as she tried to untie the letter from the tiny owl hopping about on her kitchen work top.

Finally she released it from the over excited bird, glancing down at the envelope she shouted again.

"Eet iz from Ron!"

Bill hurried down the small staircase at Shell cottage.

"I wonder what he wants? It's not like Ron to bother with a quill." Bill's voice held traces of concern.

He took the letter from Fleur, opening it quickly.

he frowned while reading the hastily written note.

"That's odd, Ron says his girlfriend Cho wants to meet us, he says she wants to ask for my assistance with a curse she has come across at the department of mysteries."

"I thought zat unspeakable's could not discuss zair work."

"hmm...yes so did I, Anyway Ron wants us to meet her, he sound's smitten." he said smiling to himself .

"When does e want us to meet?"asked Fleur as she shook back her shimmering hair, her blue eyes twinkling at her doting husband.

"Before the ball, at Grimmauld place. He says he wonders if we would mind having a small pre party drink with them both, it would mean being a few minutes late for the ball, what do you think?"

"Zat iz fine darling, eet will have to be pumpkin juice for me though."

"Yes, indeed my dear."

Bill placed the letter down, then gently pulled his wife towards him, wrapping his arms around her from behind. She nuzzled into his well built forearm and he patted her almost imperceptible stomach.

* * *

"Where is he?" Her pointed question demanded the barman's immediate attention.

As before, Perry wondered what Rabastan was doing to get such a young and innocent looking girl to visit the much older, and frankly ugly wizard.

Her tone of voice however, displayed none of her physical virtues, her sharp clipped tones were worldly wise and domineering. Perry recognised this corruption and wordlessly pointed upstairs.

The woman swept past him focused on finding her master.

The door to his room was open. She could her the landlord arguing with him. "Imperio!"a flash of light illuminated the door frame.

The publican walked past her with a vacant expression.

"I will send you the tenancy extension papers after the weekend." he said waiving his hand vaguely. "Hello" he nodded at the woman.

She ignored him pushing past.

Rabastan sat in a battered chair by the fire. His face was grey like a corpse.

She shuddered slightly.

"Are you ready for our next move." Rabastan queried with out looking up.

"Yes, Lucius's information was fairly useful, Mr Weasley jr was easily persuadable."

"You're a whore! did lucius ever use you as currency? I must admit its your most useful attribute."

The woman clenched her fair hands for a moment, yet her face remained impassive. "I do what is necessary for the greater good, under your command I add, if I am as you say a whore, what are you? A whoremonger? "

"Crucio!"

The wand was out before she could react.

She crumpled on the floor, like a fragile lotus flower. A Curled up petal in her dress of silk. She remained silent as the curse worked it's way through her nerve endings, making her body twitch.

"Remember who you're talking to witch! That was a mild slap, don't enrage me further. Your estranged husband spoke to me in a similar way, I was not so gentle with him. His screams were most upsetting. I was concerned to see his pretty face so distorted in agony. I hear he hid himself in the Malfoy manor for three days licking his wounds. Now get up! And remember whom you're dealing with ...now, tell me how Lucius's information has helped.

The young woman's Lithe body uncurled itself, raising up from the floor with as much dignity and stability as she could muster. Taking a deep steadying breath she made her reply. "I'm sure he deserved it master as did I." she addressed him with her head bowed with only the slightest tremor detectable in her voice."

"Much Better, now tell me your plans."

"You told me Lucius had given you the information that the floo at Harry Potters safe house would be open at all times to the school. He also made me aware that the potter party will be attending the ball via it. So I have convinced Mr Ron Weasley to make me a secret keeper to the safe house. I have arranged a get-together with William and Fleur Weasley tomorrow evening. They will be arriving after the others have left the house.

I will then give the Dark lords followers access to the house. The rest master, is in your hands."

Rabastans emotionless Face twitched slightly, he shook his head as if to rid himself of a fly. He winced and rubbed his hand as if in pain. "Good, I am not displeased. This will be my chance for completion. Potter and Snape will bow to me." His voice was slightly higher than normal and a mania could be heard in its treble.

The witch looked up in alarm, suspicion written on her face.

"Surely you mean The Dark Lord? They will bow to The Dark Lord."

"Indeed." He replied with a twitch of his thin lips.

"Master where is the stone?"

" Safe in hand, you may leave now." His voice became lower, as if fatigued.

Alarmed and suspicious, she made to leave walking stiffly as the cruciatus

curse still lingered in her bones.

She rested her weight against the door frame, turning one last time to address Rabastan; " I will contact you via Rodulphus tomorrow evening, be ready master."

He inclined his head, she left his presence, clutching onto the stair banister for the needed support.

She didn't hear the pathetic whimper of pain that followed her departure.

* * *

Professor Snape was replenishing his stock room, he still kept it, even though potions was, for the time being Slughorn's department, he grudgingly allowed Horace to use it. Horace rarely replenished the stock. Snape actually suspected the florid professor of pilfering some of the more valuable contents. He reached up intending to replace a bottle of lacewing on the middle shelf, as he did so, a sharp pain spasmed through his body, the bottle fell through his fingers smashing on the floor. He staggered and clutched at the shelf knocking more bottle to the ground.

His vision fogged, he could hear laughter, he could hear the words; "Bow to me..."Just as suddenly the professors vision cleared, the pain dissipated. Snape straightened himself up, resting heavily against the door.

'Typical, nightmares while I'm awake now.' He thought. Breathing slowly he turned and opened the door to the corridor, and made his way to the office. Almost as if signaled of his presence, The fire flashed green, then Professor McGonagal's head arose from the glowing embers.

"Severus?"

"I'm here Minerva." He replied Softly, trying to compose himself. He walked steadily toward the fire, hoping the headmistress would not notice his recent indisposition .

"I'm just checking up on you. You haven't sent an RSVP to the Heros committee for the ball. I took the liberty of sending it for you."

"It certainly was a liberty, I was not going to attend. You may inform them if you wish." his voice was slightly petulant.

"Merlins beard, you are the most annoying man I have ever encountered!" she blustered

"I find that hard to believe, you spend most of your time with a portrait of an addled old man."

"Fine, your the second most annoying man of my acquaintance!"

Snape accepted his secondary position with a nod. "Its all to the greater good Minerva, if I'm so annoying... you don't need my company at the ball ...do you? I also think that my being alive and kicking ...as it were, will certainly upset a few attendees. I would hate to rain on the parade. I can assure you however, that I'm mortified to be missing such a splendid occasion for Potter!" He raised his lip in a sarcastic smirk and began to walk away from the fire.

"Severus! You will attend, or You will be watching your back, until I retire or die! And if I do die, I will haunt you!"

Snape faced the fire once again. "You already do haunt me! So I have little fear of your threats, it's all the same to me...Headmistress."

"I hate to do this Severus, but if you do not attend, I will be forced to withdraw your position here! You're to support your school!"

"Fine... But I'm not dressing up, I'm not dancing, I will not be smiling, but I will stand inanimately in the Corner as long as you wish. Are you sure you want that at your...ball?"

"It's all I expect from you Severus, do not let me down." Her head sunk into the embers and disappeared with a crackle.

Snape raised his wand viciously, shouting "agumenti"at the fire which sizzled and fizzed out immediately. Grabbing his robes he made for the door. Takeing long strides he crossed the threshold of his office, slamming the door behind him. He flung the outer robe over his shoulders fastening the chain expertly, While still walking at a furious pace towards the entrance hall. Waving his wand hand the mighty doors to the school opened to reveal the fading afternoon light. Flying through them he gave a backward flick of his wand and the doors closed behind him.

Hermione, sat studying alone in her Hogwarts rooms. She had spent all day sorting costumes and getting things ready for the ball. Her compulsive nature wouldn't allow her to neglect some last minute study, as tired as she was her mind kept wanting to keep churning. She was still working on a potions essay for professor Slughorn. The book smart witch remembered that Harry had more success when he didn't follow the text exactly. This was still an alien concept to her, it was frustrating, she decided to collect some ingredients together and try to brew by the feel and not by the book.

Her mum always used to cook with her as a small child, she never used a cook book she rarely used scales and yet she was a most accomplished chef."How do you know it's ready mum?" Hermione remembered asking her mum this, while watching the cake rise in the oven. "I can just feel it my darling, you just know." Maybe it was the same with potions. Hermione felt it was worth a try.

Hermione checked her stock. she sighed "I'm missing a few things." Closing the little cupboard door she decided to go to Professor Snape's stock room. Professor Slughorn had said she could use it at any time, as long as she replaced used items. She left her rooms quickly, to sprint in the direction of the dungeons. On reaching the tiny potions room, she raised her wand, casting the charm to break the wards given to her by Professor Slughorn.

Stepping in to the darkened store room she heard glass crunching under her feet. "lumos!" the summoned light displayed broken tubes and bottles strewn along the floor. The Gryffindor looked around the small room in panic. "Professor." She gasped. She rushed out of the room closing the door with a swish of her wand. Turning to Snape's office and banging on the door. There was no reply.

"Alohamora ! "

The door swung open, it was cold in his office, she shivered as she stepped in the room. "Professor!" she shouted. Her voice echoed slightly.

"Ahem."

Hermione looked up for the source of the noise.

Phineas Nigellus Black looked down from a portrait he was apparently visiting. "He left, Miss Granger."

"Where?" she asked.

"I don't think that's any of your business Miss Granger." he stated haughtily.

"Professor Black it's important, I'm worried, where is he?"

"I don't know girl, I'm not in his confidence. He took his outdoor cloak, maybe he's out in the grounds. Now please leave you're ruining my visit."He turned away to continue his conversation with another decidedly slytherin looking wizard.

Hermione shot out of the room towards the grounds. As she ran towards the lake she could see a shadow by the waters edge, The girl almost cried in relief, it had to be the professor. She stopped running and slowly approached the huddled figure. As Hermione got closer, it became apparent that he was reading, due to the dwindling light he was having to hold the book close to his face. His knees were drawn up to his chest, the small book rested on them, the professors shoulders hunched over towards the pages. As she crept closer behind him she could see it was poetry he was reading. Hermione was further shocked to see him raise a cigarette to his mouth.

"I know your there Granger." he drawled without turning round.

"Those things will kill you." Hermione stated nervously.

"Really? That's convenient. How long have I got?" He turned over a page, hopeful that she would leave him to his solitude.

Hermione nervously walked to his side and sat next to him.

Snape stiffened slightly and turned to look at her. "What do you want Miss Granger?"

"I want to know if your ok, your stock room is covered in broken glass."

"Are you spying on me?"

"No! why... Why would you think that? I was getting extra potion ingredients, with permission, I add,from professor Slughorn."

"It wouldn't be the first time you nosey Gryfindor's have spied on me would it?"

Hermione shook her head in miserable agreement. "But not this time sir, I was just worried."

Snape sighed. "I fell Miss Granger, I knocked the bottles over, I forgot to clear the mess up."

"Did you hurt yourself?" Hermione asked timidly.

Snape huffed in exasperation. "Will you stop with the persistent questions, I'm fine." The stern man was puzzled and a little irritated by her concern. He flicked his cigarette butt away, agitatedly blowing out the last of the smoke from his mouth.

"Do you like poetry Sir?" Hermione desperately tried a different conversational tack.

Snape groaned with the realisation that ridding himself of the interfering know it all, was going to be the devil of a task. "Obviously." Was the familiar one word put down.

"Poet's help the reader really feel emotion, don't you think?" Hermione became quietly lost in contemplation of her favourite poets. The young woman drew her knees up, so that unconsciously her posture mirrored that of her Professor's.

A silence settled over them, yet it wasn't totally uncomfortable. It was a relief to Severus Snape, He didn't want to talk, yet to his own surprise, the silent contemplation of Hermione's thoughts on poetry prompted him to comment.

"I wouldn't know." he almost whispered.

"I'm sorry what did you say?" the late response to the earlier rhetorical question took the girl quite by surprise.

"I said ...I wouldn't know, I don't feel, I certainly don't want emotion, I like the words, the construction of a poem. I'm afraid the projection of emotion is not a factor." He closed his book with a snap, the light was growing too dim for reading anyway. He placed the book to his side, stretched his legs out and placed his hands flat either side of him, Feeling the cold grass between his fingers. He gazed out across the lake slightly regretful of his admittance. The wind blew across the water and a gentle rippling sound filled the air.

Hermione shivered slightly.

"Where's your cloak?" said Snape sharply.

"I didn't bring it, I was to panicked about you."

"You little fool, I'm big and ugly enough to look after myself, you how ever seem to require a nursemaid." He removed a black handkerchief from his pocket throwing it in the air he expertly swiped his wand across it as it fell. When it settled on Hermione It had been transfigured into a large black blanket that engulfed her with warmth.

The young woman smiled in appreciation of the beautiful piece of magic demonstrated for her.

"I'm not your nursemaid Granger." Hissed Snape.

"No you most defiantly are not. But you don't fool me professor, you feel, I've seen you feel emotion, you cried on my shoulder or have you forgotten?"

Snape growled softly in warning. "How could I forget? Humiliation tends to imprint itself permanently on the mind."

"There's no shame in asking for help Sir."

"I'm aware of that Miss Granger, are you aware I've never asked for it?"

"I am sir, I just wish you would."

"Why? I don't understand what you want from me. I have spent thirty nine years without asking for help, why are you so convinced its something I need now?"

Hermione Thought for a second ; "What do you feel professor? What do the poets make you feel? I dont believe you purely read them for gramatical reasons, You must read poetry for a better reason than rhyme and metre." Again there was a moments silence, Hermione fidgeted uneasily, maybe that was to much to ask.

"Despair."

"I'm sorry?" Hermione missed the softly spoken word that got lost in the breeze.

"Despair, Granger. It's all I've ever felt, are you happy now? Was that what you wanted to hear?"

Hermione allowed her legs to straighten out in front of her, she turned slightly on her side her hands steadying her on the damp grass. The blanket slipped from her shoulders. The young woman looked at the professors profile, he was determinedly looking out over the water, expressionless, cold. His hair whipped around his face in the breeze. Suddenly like a candle snuffed out, the sun disappeared, darkness descended, silvery light streaked across the lake. Stars began to pepper the sky." Despair sir? Even now?, look how beautiful it is." Hermione began to recite;

'**_HAD I the heavens' embroidered cloths,_**

**_Enwrought with golden and silver light,_**

**_The blue and the dim and the dark cloths_**

**_Of night and light and the half-light,_**

**_I would spread the cloths under your feet:_**

**_But I, being poor, have only my dreams;_**

**_I have spread my dreams under your feet;_**

**_Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.'_**

...Do you have dreams sir?" Hermione moved unconsciously closer to the inanimate wizard.

"Yes, bad ones filled with war and death." He seemed unmoved by Hermione's quotation.

"So do I, but I have nice dreams too. I heard poetry in my dreams the other night."

Wistfully the girl looked up to the sky to study the stars.

Snape started to speak again, with an angry tremor punctuating his words.

"You ... You, can't fix me, I don't understand why you're trying to. This is who I am, who I've always been. Against my better judgement I've told and shown you things I was determined would remain my own." He paused before continuing his admission. "You confuse me, A child shouldn't confuse me. Do you think you could leave me alone now, has your curiosity been sated?"

"I'm not a child! don't misunderstand me, I know exactly who you are. You're the one who is refusing to see yourself, you're the one who sees no future, who wants no future. Don't you see that no matter what your past, no mater how dirty or miserable it was , Your future is fresh, new and spotless, it's a clean slate, but it's your decision to keep it so. Your alive for a reason professor."

Despite his efforts not too, Snape found himself turning to study her features as she gazed at the stars. She was beautiful, no other word for it. Her hair glistened in the moonlight, her flawless skin sparkled with youth and vitality.

Hermione shifted slightly, unaware that she had caught Snape's attention.

Suddenly Hermione realised she had moved just a little too close, as her fingers brushed against the professors own hand.

She stilled her hand at once. Hermione felt her stomach turn over, her fingers tingled, she fought the desire to grab his hand.'what the hell was that?' she thought, horrified by her instinctive urge. 'Oh dear gods, I'm in so much trouble. ' Hermione suddenly comprehended her own feelings. This was no crush, this feeling wasn't going away. The usually calm and collected girls hand, quivered slightly, causing the smallest amount of friction against the professors little finger, scared to break contact yet unprepared to risk furthering the touch. Hermione was convinced the professor hadn't noticed her hand anyway. It was the smallest amount of skin touching and yet it felt like she was on fire.

Snape stared at the sky while mentally berating himself for talking to Granger. He also felt the brush of her little finger against his. It caused a jolt in his navel, uncomfortable but compelling. Snape vaguely remembered a similar feeling from over twenty years ago. His discomfort with her proximity led him to distance himself. When he pulled away from her hand, it hit the pit of his stomach like a physical blow, One he was quite unprepared for. "Miss Granger you are now past curfew." Snape spoke up sharply to hide his confusion.

"I don't have a curfew sir."

"If I say so, you do."

Hermione sighed stood up and brushed her skirt down, then she made to Pass Snape the blanket that was draped over her arm.

"Keep it" he growled pushing it back towards her.

She wrapped it back around herself gratefully.

"Thank you sir."

"I'm going to escort you back to the castle, you seem to have a nose for trouble, the headmistress would not want you walking the grounds alone in the dark." He picked up his book and strode off in the direction of the castle his cape billowing out in the wind.

Hermione trotted after him struggling to keep up with his long strides. Once in the castle she grabbed Snape's cloak, "Thank you sir." she said breathlessly.

Snape glared at her hand on his outer garment, she dropped it immediately. "What for?"

"For talking to me Profesor."

"I don't think I had much choice did I Granger?"

"You always have a choice, I'm surprised you chose to talk. "

Snape turned his back on her to walk to his rooms. He didn't get far.

"Sir?"

She pulled a vial from her pocket and hurried over to him, she grabbed his hand.

Snape flinched and tried to free himself of her. Before he could she placed the vial in his palm. "What's this?" he barked in annoyance.

"I destroyed all your private stock of medicine sir, but I think you needed this one, it's dreamless sleep. Only one dose. I made it myself, I think you need it more than I do tonight. Sleep well sir." With that she ran off to her rooms without so much as a backward glance at professor Snape.

He stood in the fast darkening entrance hall, staring at the gift in his palm, wondering how he had allowed such a conversation to occur.

* * *

It was soon the afternoon of the Ball. Grimmauld place had been full of activity all day.

Hermione had finished her potions homework when she left the professor. She had pushed their conversation to one side in her mind, deciding to Pursue it further another time. She was determined to relax and enjoy the ball. No work, no darkness, no annoying professor Snape. She fleetingly wondered if he would even be there. Ignoring the uneasy hope that he would be, she continued to pack her outfit to get changed at Hogwarts.

"I look like a pratt!"Announced Ron walking into the kitchen. He was wearing a tight-fitting costume, it was decorated with colourful triangles and diamond's. A black half mask, that had tiny eyeholes and quizzically arched eyebrows, obscured his own face, it was accentuated by a wrinkled forehead, giving the whole ensemble a comical quality.

" I think madame Malkin and a touch of magic have worked wonders. You look awesome." Hermione said looking him up and down.

"What am I supposed to be again?"

"Your Harlequin. A poor but witty Jester, very popular with the ladies."

"hmmm ... ladies have a thing about tight trousers covered with diamond shapes?"

"Definitely" was the firm reply.

Ron did not miss the giggle that followed. He scowled at Hermione's bent head.

Harry strode into the kitchen wearing his invisibility cloak inside out, it shimmered and waved like water, still see through, but tangible, the fuzzy red hue of fabric could be seen under it. His mask covered his face to his upper lip, it was white and skeletal with black around the eye holes.

"That's a creepy mask, perfect Harry!" Hermione was delighted with the effect.

"I knew he'd come in looking all cool. Why is it me that always ends up at parties looking like a pillock?"

Harry laughed at Ron and assured him that his costume was brilliant.

Slightly mollified Ron asked to see the rest of Harry's outfit. Obligingly he removed his clock to reveal a tight red velvet jacket, adorned with brass buttons. The collar was high and flamboyant with gold brocade. He wore a black cravat. The trousers were a tight red velvet, a sword hung to the side. Ron snorted. "Nice, don't bend down at any point those trousers will split into. Hermione did you really design these outfits? I think you could have designed our trousers a bit roomier, these leave little to the imagination."

" Just be grateful I didn't get my trouser inspiration from David Bowie, do you remember that masked ball in labyrinth?"

"Yes he had a very prominent role in that film." laughed Harry.

"Yes, it was a very impressive role." Hermione agreed, smirking.

"I was concerned about his acting skills but creative camera angles really helped bring out his talents, and the way he manipulates those balls, almost hypnotic." finished Harry grinning.

Hermione howled with laughter.

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Just a muggle movie Ron" said Harry slipping his cloak back on.

Ron shrugged disinterested. As Harry put his his cloak back on, the red head suddenly looked thoughtful, his face creased with the effort of trying to remember something.

"I keep thinking I've seen something similar to your cloak,especially when I see it inside out... The veil! It looks just like the veil in the department of mysteries."

Harry and Hermione thought about this, recalling their own encounter with the veil. Harry shivered slightly remembering Sirius and a familiar pang of mourning churned his stomach.

"Your right Ron it does look similar, how strange." Hermione pondered, gazing at the iridescent material.

Ron shrugged. "Just a coincidence I suppose, hey why are you not tarted up yet?"

Hermione was still in her jeans her hair scraped back into a rough pony tail.

"I'm going to get ready in the Hogwarts rooms, I'm off now. Harry are you still going early to Hogwarts to meet up with Ginny?""Yes I'm going now too, you have the house to yourself Ron. See you in a bit."

With that Harry and Hermione gathered their things and went off to Hogwarts via the fireplace.

Ron settled himself down in the armchair by the fire. He poured himself an encouraging fire whisky and waited for his girlfriend and brother to arrive.

**I hope this is readable I hope my mistakes don't distract to much. Please review it's nice to hear what people think, in the meantime I will try and get this improved.**

**This chapter has not had a beta, I don't know how long it will be before I can get it looked at. In the meantime I am writting the next chapter. I had very little feedback to this chapter, so maybe my poor grammer is too distracting. Please let me know if anyone wants me to continue.**


	23. Get ready, it begins!

Hermione relaxed in the shell shaped bath, allowing the fragrant steam to caress her. Suddenly she raised herself up in panic. "pants! Draco!" she exclaimed. She sloshed water all over the floor as she hurriedly jumped out of the bath, grabbing her robe she ran to the fire.  
"Ron!" She yelled, Hermione's face then emerged in the fire embers at Grimmauld place.  
"Ron!" she shouted again.

The harlequin was dozing slightly in his chair the hand in his lap was lightly clasping a glass tumbler. The sudden cry of his name shook him out of his repose.  
"Flipping hell" Ron exclaimed, splashing his drink all over himself.  
"Hermione! You just scared me half to death. Couldn't you have just popped back normally? I've spilt my whiskey all over me, I'm going to smell like a drunk!"

"Sorry," Hermione focused on her wandless magic; the stain on Ron's outfit vanished. "I've just got out of the bath, I'm in my dressing gown, didn't want to floo back completely. Just forgot to say, Malfoy will be at the house in an hour can you wait outside and let him in the usual way?"

"Do I have too?" groaned Ron  
"Yes, and be nice Ronald. Let him use the floo to Hogwarts when he arrives."

"Will you be wearing more clothes when he arrives?" Ron asked bitterly.

"No, Ronald; Your right, I'm going to the party in a dressing gown."

Ron huffed derisively,  
"Go on, get ready; I'll let the ferret in, I will be nice... Ish."

Hermione's face retreated into the fire disappearing into the ash.

Ron began to pace around the kitchen. He was strangely nervous about the ball, he worried about his girlfriend who blew hot and cold most of the time. The young man wondered which temperature she would be selecting tonight, he hoped it would be somewhere in between.  
Glancing up at the clock, Ron decided it was time to await Malfoy.

Groaning he realised he would have to cover up his colourful outfit.  
Grabbing a long cloak from the hall way, He Turned to the door, Once the door was opened Ron hastily glanced up and down the street.  
'It a good job its Halloween.'He thought. 'No one should think the cape odd.'

After a few minutes, Ron spotted Draco Malfoy sauntering along street. He too was wearing a long concealing cloak. The late afternoon light was beginning to fade and a chill was in the air. Ron shivered keen to be back by the fire.

Draco approached Ron head held high. Giving a curt bow he said "Mr Weasley."

"Hermione's not here ferret, so lets not pretend."

"Fine, Weasel suits me. Let's get this over with, blindfold me."

Having dispensed with their pleasantries, Ron performed the vital ritual to get them in the safe house.  
Once inside Ron marched ahead leading the way to the kitchen fireplace. Taking his cloak off and throwing it over the kitchen chair, he spun around to face Draco.  
"I will be watching you! No funny business." Ron snarled.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist weasel, I will try to be on my best behaviour, if I fail...At least I will see you coming in that ensemble, interesting outfit choice. Harlequin? Did Granger choose it?"

"So What if she did? What are you wearing anyway?"  
Ron was curious despite himself.

"It Means that little fuzzy head know it all, has a sense of humour."

Draco removed his cloak in a fluid movement, draping it over one arm.  
The aristocratic looking young man was wearing a black padded doublet, with fancy Medieval sleeves.  
A snake motif was picked out in silver and green sequins on the arm.  
Across one shoulder was a heavily embroidered half cape, secured with a silver chain. His breeches were made of leather. Swashbuckling knee high, black turnover boots with silver toe cap's finished off the look. Withdrawing his wand he conjured a mask, silver in colour covering the face around the eyes. A long pointed nose completed the disguise.

Ron grimly took note of all these details.  
"She certainly does have a sense of humour. You don't need to bother with that ridiculous mask, she's advertised your slytherin allegiance All over you. What are you supposed to be anyway, apart from the slytherin pinup boy?"

" Disclosure of my identity did cross my mind too, but the house of slytherin still exists within the school does it not? I will not be the only supporter. I also remain true to who I am."

"Yeah a ferret!"

"Change the record Weasel. I'm Scaramouche."

"Who's that?"

"A rich playboy, adventurer! Fitting I thought."

"Well, you look like a knob head."

"As do you weasel, as do you." Smirked Draco.

Draco looked over to the fire place and reached out for a pot containing floo powder.  
"Can I go now? Is this the floo?"

"Yeah" was the monosyllabic reply.

Draco took a handful of floo powder.  
"I like your outfit, very you,'Harlequin'  
An impoverished joker! A loser with the women." He finished speaking quickly, jumping into the fire shouting "Hogwarts" just before Ron's withdrawn fist could connect with his face.

Ron exclaimed in annoyance,  
"Ye gods, I hate him!"

Before he had time to recollect himself the door opened.  
There was Cho; resplendent in an outfit of black and cream, gold braid and buttons adorned it. The open jacket's shapely princess seams were outlined in two rows of rich gold braid, enhancing her tall willowy figure. Her blouse In gleaming cream damask fitted snugly against her pale skin. A long elegant jacket fastened with a row of golden buttons drew the eye to the tiny waist. Falling from which was a full overskirt of plain black dropping to a decorative trim in gold and black lace. Below this rustled a white skirt with a stripe of cream damask.

Her black hair gleamed in the fire light; coquettishly Cho raised her mask on its golden stick to her eyes and peeped through enchantingly at Ron.

Ron noticed immediately it was the mask of the harlequin she was matching her date, and out of one jacket pocket peeped a harlequin handkerchief.

The young man stuttered slightly in appreciation.  
"Y...you. Look beautiful."

"Thank you."  
"Wait till my brother see's you!" he exclaimed.  
"Yes, indeed." Cho winced slightly.

Ron didn't notice her sudden unease. He was busy pondering over Malfoy. 'Just wait until Malfoy see's her, I'll show him, a loser with women, he will eat his words.'

Just then a knock could be heard at the door. The loud noise immediately alerting mrs black to intruders. Her screeching began in Earnest.  
"Filth, Traitors! Polluting the noble house of black!..." her words trailed on.  
"Excuse me" muttered Ron.  
He walked past Cho into the hall.  
A loud bang silenced the screaming old hag. " Shut your cake hole, you Stupid old bint!"  
Shouted Ron, re-pocketing his wand and stalking off to the front door.

"Bill! Fleur! Come in"  
The two redheads smiled broadly at each other, punching each others shoulders jovially.

"Hi Fleur, how are you?" the younger brother smiled shyly at his siblings spouse.

"I am very well thank you Ronald et iz good to see you."

Ron ushered them in to the house, then through to the kitchen.

The kitchen was empty.  
"Cho!...Cho!"  
There was no reply to Ron's call.  
"I don't know where she's gone, she was here a minute ago, maybe she's gone to the bathroom. I will make us a drink she will be here any minute. What would you like?"

"A cup of tea would be nice, Ron."

"Goodness Bill, you've gone all middle aged!"

"Got to grow up some time bro, I'm going to be a dad, so now would be a good time."

Ron paused at the kettle as this sunk in.  
"Really? I'm going to be an uncle? That's awesome! Congratulations. Does mum know?"

"Yes, we told her an hour ago she's very excited." Replied Bill

"I bet she is! Wow fleur...how do you feel?"

"I feel a little tired, but zat iz fine, I'm vairy happy."

Ron hugged them both and returned to the tea. After handing them their steaming beverages, he excused himself.  
"I think I will see where my girlfriends hiding, I hope she's not nervous about meeting you. Wait there a mo."

Ron left the couple sat by the fire drinking their tea happily.

Cho had sneaked upstairs as Ron opened the front door. She listened from the landing to the Weasley's arrival. Once Ron had taken them through to the kitchen she quickly made her way to the front door. With a Flourish of her wand she sent a signal; immediately four grim death eaters appeared in the street, peering intently at the muggle houses either side of the disillusioned wizard home.

The witch alerted them too her presence. This allowed the Death eaters to see and access this once secure home.  
For once Mrs Black was silent in her observation of the new guests. She obviously felt a kinship to them.

Quietly the group made their way upstairs a muffliato spell cast around them. Cho left them to wait in one of the upper room's and made her way back to the kitchen.

At this point she collided with Ron in the hall.

His hands gripped her arms and he stooped a little to look at her face.  
A small tear ran down her porcelain cheek.  
Ron instinctively went to brush it away with his hand.  
"Cho whats wrong? Bill and Fleur are here. My family are nice I promise, they have good news too...Fleur's pregnant."  
Cho gasped slightly and another tear rolled down her face.  
Ron pulled her to him. "What's the matter Cho, your scaring me?"

Cho hugged him tight her arms wound around his neck, her wand still grasped tightly in her hand. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry." She whispered.

"What on earth for? Have you gone mental?" your wonderful." He patted her back in what he hoped was a soothing gesture.

"You poor boy, it's going to be fine ...I promise. Its all for the greater good."  
Her word were softly spoken in his ear, no one nearby could have heard.

Before the bewildered young man in her arms could express his confusion, she flicked the wand held behind his back and whispered "Stupefy!"  
Ronald Weasley slumped in her arms.  
He was heavy. "Mobilicorpus!" she levitated his unconscious form up the stairs and into his bedroom. Arranging him carefully on the bed she removed his wand. Closing the door, she once more crept downstairs towards the kitchen, casting a stealth charm, she entered the room without detection from Bill or Fleur.

The couple were happily cuddling by the fire blissfully unaware of the horrors that awaited them. They had their backs to the approaching witch. Cho raised her arms, pointed both wands at them, then concentrated on her silent magic. 'Stupefy!' she visualised the spell and two red jets of light shot from the wand's hitting the Weasley's from behind. "Mobilicorpus!" In her haste she verbalised the spell, quickly catching them before they crashed to the floor.

Lowering them gently, The stricken woman looked at the door to make sure she was not observed. Moving over to the bodies by the fire she ignored Bill and reached for fleur. Cradling the inert form she pressed her hand on the small swell of her stomach. "Tueri Fetus!" she whispered. A warm glow of light lit up Fleur's body for a brief moment. "That's all the help I can give you. I'm Sorry for what you are about to go through. The end always justifies the means." The words fell uselessly on their deaf ears, the witch was comforting herself, alone.  
Pushing Fleur back to the floor, she composed herself. Then she levitated the bodies upstairs to the waiting death eaters.


	24. More champagne?

**_Sorry it's a very late post, sorry its short, I don't have a beta at the moment and I'm not very confident, so my apologies. If you see any embarrassing mistakes can you tell me and I will change it. _**

**_Also thanks to guest reviewer Elizabeth, I knew it was black, goodness knows why I put lestrange, so thanks for telling me. In correcting this mistake I noticed another plot error that I changed. I'm not sure anyone is following it closely enough for it to ruin the plot. I will be posting again tonight or if not in the next few days I hope._**

The sitting room fire flashed green. A blond head stooped out from the dark chimney, the silver protruding nose of the mask entering the room first. After stepping free of the hearth, the young man lightly brushed his black robe down. Draco took of the mask, and looked around the warm inviting sitting room for somewhere to put it.  
The room seemed empty, a coffee table stood in front of him, a small package lay on top of it, along with a few abandoned text books. Draco placed his mask on the table, then lightly fingered the package, he couldn't make out what the small rectangular object was, it was wrapped in brown paper, to the side of this was a black rose, with a silver ribbon tied to the stem.  
A sudden noise from behind one of the doors made Draco look up."Hermione?" He shouted in the direction of the noise.

"Hi Draco, sorry, just give me two minutes." The muffled response came back from the adjoining bathroom.

"No worries take your Time." Draco replied. Walking back to the coffee table he picked up the package, 'maybe a book?' he thought, 'definitely a Gift'  
'It seems Hermione has an admirer' he said to himself. Fleetingly he wondered why she hadn't gone to the ball with the unknown suitor. 'Maybe it's nothing, perhaps a gift from a friend.' He concluded, he then replaced the package back on the table.

A few minutes later the door to the bathroom opened and Hermione stepped through to the study.  
Draco turned to greet her and was transported back to the Yule ball of a few years ago. He hated everything she represented back then, she had been teased and bullied mercilessly by him, yet at the Yule ball that easy target had blossomed to become a formidable enemy, that annoyingly, even he had been unable to find fault, in either her comportment or appearance. Now she was his benevolent benefactor, giving him support where even his parents had let him down, and she was stunning.  
Her backless dress was fitted and hung tightly around her frame, dark green silk that rippled to a pool around her feet, her hair cascaded in a knot down her neck to nestle along her Shapley back,tiny white diamonds glinted in the folds of her tresses.

Draco blinked in surprise at the silver bangle that twisted in coils around her white upper arm. "A viper Hermione? Remind me, what house are you from?"

"Oh I'm a Gryffindor through and through, but tonight... I'm flirting with the Slytherins, and its all in the name of interhouse encouragement."

The young man withdrew his wand. Hermione looked at him in confusion, wondering about his intent.  
He muttered an incantation, flourished his wand, and two books on the coffee table became crystal champagne flutes. From his pocket he withdrew a miniature bottle of champagne, that he had obviously shrunk for convenience. "Engorgio,"  
The bottle became full size in Draco's grasp. Hermione didn't hear the spell that withdrew the cork, but she certainly heard the effect,the cork flew out with a loud pop.

"Nice Draco, you do remember this is not a real date don't you.?"

A cocky smirk graced his thin lips "I've not forgotten Granger, but I seem to remember, that this not really a date situation, was mutually beneficial, so tell me, who's the ignorant Slytherin your trying to attract?"

" Are we back to surnames? Anyway, who says its a Slytherin Malfoy?"

"Your dress does." He poured out the champagne with practiced grace and proffered a glass towards her.

She accepted the champagne with a challenging look in her eye. "You may be surprised, you see what you want to see. Thanks for the champagne but why the gesture?"

Draco was confused as to her meaning, but decided to let it go, he started to explain why the champagne gift seemed a good idea. "I will cut to chase, I'm nervous...shocking I know...the bubbles, the alcohol, it's a little infusion of confidence. Lets be honest here, we are about to show up as a couple to a huge ball..." He broke off to step forward and take Hermione's free hand, she flinched and spilt her champagne a little in recoil. Draco laughed "...and you, just jumped a mile at a little touch, from the wizard who tried to make your school days a living hell! Nobodies going to believe we're friends, the pathetic specimen I'm sure your trying to trap, will never get jealous and hot under the collar, by our turning up together, one look at us with our touch me and die faces on, would kill that little idea. So ...Hermione if we are to do this, lets do it properly, drink the damn champagne...and let's pretend we like each other... Who knows it might be fun." He let go of her hand and poured a glass for himself and raised it in a salute.  
"Your beautiful." He said appreciatively.

Hermione smiled, "Your a charmer, I have to say, your not bad yourself in that outfit."

" Well you designed it... By the way, what's the deal with the tight trousers everyone is running around in, by your design again?"  
"A girl likes to have fun." She replied saucily, already feeling the effect of the bursting,popping, bubbles, fizzing on her tongue. She smiled as she sipped her drink.

"You have a naughty sense of humour, although I will warn you, little Roniekins is on the warpath, I just told him what his clown outfit represented, clearly the idiot didn't know, he nearly thumped me, I just flooed away in time!"

"You didn't! Draco! Im going to have to plump his ego all night now. He's not an idiot, you are, just try and get on...please."

Draco sighed "I will try, just for tonight, lets finish the champagne and face the music."

"There's nothing to face Draco, you'll be fine." Hermione tentatively took his hand and led him to he sofa where they finished their drinks in comfort.  
"Whats your costume meant to represent then?and where's your mask?" Draco asked making an effort at casual conversation as he transfigured his glass back to being a book.

"My costumes a little bit vague, I'm Inamorata, her character rarely wears a mask but when she does its hand held." Hermione reached over the sofa and picked up a delicate eye mask black with silver embroidery, dark green curled feathers to one side, with a silver stick to hold it against her face. She held it to her eyes and tilted her head coquettishly at Draco.  
"Come on witch, let's go before I completely loose my mind, and make a play for you."

Hermione giggled, then she slipped the loop attached to the mask over her wrist. "Where's your mask then?"

Draco moved once again to the coffee table and picked up his mask charming it on to his face.  
Hermione walked over to join him, "You suddenly look very sinister."

The curious young man picked up the black rose resting on the table.  
"What's this?"  
"I ... I don't know." Hermione reached for the rose in confusion, "it wasn't there earlier."

"Would you like me to fix the rose to your outfit?"  
"That's Very gallant of you, let's fix it to my mask. Could you charm it to spiral around the handle."

"I think my limited magic could cope with that." The wizard replied sarcastically.  
"It's got no thorns on it, so should be fine" Draco fixed the rose to entwine around the handle fixing the pretty ribbon to the bottom of the silver stick.

Thank you, I wonder who it is off? and what's the package, is that yours?"

"No it's not, I think it's a gift for you, open it, who is it from?" Draco passed the package to her.

"Your very nosey!" the young woman pulled the paper of the package to reveal a small green book with golden leaves. "Palgraves golden treasury of poetry." she read aloud.

"Poetry!" Scoffed Draco "What ponce has sent that?"

The surprised girl opened the book thoughtfully, she noticed the front page had been ripped out for some reason. On the contents list in the margin was a small note, that read; "I don't need this anymore, I think you might." No addressee and no addresser she noted. The book had two small markers highlighting certain pages. The first was a poem called loves philosophy by Percy Blythe Shelley. She read it very quickly, aware of Draco's growing impatience, Then she was transported back to the resonant deep voice of her dreams, "The same poem!" Hermione exclaimed, to Draco's amusement. Blushing under his scrutiny she turned to the other marker; "The clothes of heaven" she whispered.  
'This could only be from one person' but considering his demeanour and attitude towards her it was surprising to get a gift when she could barely get a civil word. The rose couldn't possibly be from him, that was just inconceivable.

"Come on Granger, who's it off, spill!"  
"Your such a gossip, no ... I don't know who sent it, lets go now anyway."  
Draco raised his eyebrow disbelievingly. "Come on then gorgeous, lets go, but beware, I will know your little secrets before the night is out."  
Draco offered his arm and Hermione took it. Together they left the study to make their way to the entrance hall.


	25. Meeting friends and Enemies

_**Thanks to xoRetributionox for checking my mistakes and for helping the story flow. Also a note to insanitytalisman hope your ok and thanks for your help on this story too. I'm very grateful to both of you.**_

Leaves were falling in the autumn winds, bringing with them the chill of winter. Darkness was descending at a time when only a few days ago, it was light. Pervading the air were the delicious smells of roasting chestnuts and toffee apples. Against the twilight, the turrets of the castle stood out like beacons of light welcoming the weary traveler.

Once again, the pale blue Beauxbatons carriage graced the grounds like a frostbitten pumpkin. On the lake rested the large and foreboding Durmstrang ship, looking skeletal and dark, like the trees around the lake that had already shed their leaves. All were indications that Hogwarts was entertaining again.

House elves down in the kitchens were probably working at lightning speed to create rich, warming and very fattening dishes. Very few would pay them a thought. Hermione would undoubtedly point this out to her ex-S.P.E.W members.

The entrance hall was bustling with excitement. Most of the guests seemed to have embraced the dress code; masks covered the faces of the various witches and wizards, making recognition difficult, but for those who knew each other well it was not a barrier to finding close friends. Young and old witches and wizards mixed together, talking excitedly. Several were shouting out to old acquaintances easily recognised and laughing at the more outrageous or just plain thoughtless outfits. Giggled whispers of speculation could be heard about those not recognised. Even conversation with apparent strangers flowed with ease; everyone was determined to have a good time. Everyone was awaiting eight o'clock, when the doors to the Great Hall would open.

Hermione and Draco paused half way down the marble stairs to survey the jubilant crowd below, one with misgiving, one searching and expectant.

A tall dark haired young man, dressed in black tie robes with shiny patent dance shoes that glistened in the candlelight, could be seen in the centre of the hall. In an effort to co-operate with the theme of the ball, a hastily fixed mask had been donned. However, it did very little to hide his identity. He stood nervously and awkwardly in the midst of the crowd as though waiting for someone.

Hermione jogged Draco's arm. "Look, Luna!" Draco did indeed look in the direction indicated and snorted contemptuously. "Crazy!" "She's awesome, I love her." Hermione chided.

Luna was gracefully pressing through the mass of party goers heading straight for Neville. She wore a huge, full skirted ball gown that looked like it was made of crystal. The gown reflected lights a bit like a disco ball catching the candle light as Luna turned to find her friend. Her mask was most impressive; it almost covered her entire face. A sequinned butterfly mask sparkled and glinted, although it did nothing to hide who she was. Her silver blond hair and her mannerisms gave her away.

Hermione looked on affectionately as Luna approached the young man in the dancing shoes who was quite clearly Neville. "She's beautiful and original Draco." Her escort snorted again. "Well Neville seems pleased anyway." Hermione was pleased that he had not made a slighting remark about Neville, as she had expected him to.

Hermione gave Draco's arm a slight squeeze. "Are you ready to stun all the girls with your mad dance skills and hot boots? Or are we going to stand on the stairs all night?"  
Draco raised his eyebrow in surprise at not only the gesture but also the teasing. "Girls are always stunned by me, it gets a bit old." He shrugged arrogantly with just a trace of a smile on his face. "Dream on Draco, if you can get a girl to kiss you tonight I ...I.. " Hermione broke off trying to think of a significant bet. "Tell me who you're trying to impress?" Draco finished for her. "Or kiss me yourself? I think I like that idea even better." He smirked. Hermione punched him in the ribs. "As I said, Dream on!"

Wincing slightly Draco steered Hermione down the stairs. As if by some intuition they knew where they'd be, Harry and Ginny were waiting for them hand in hand at the bottom. Had Hermione not designed the dress she wouldn't have recognised Ginny. Even Draco took a moment to realise who it was. Ginny was dressed in the style of Madame Pompadour, her red hair piled up high on her head in the 18th century French style. Jewels glittered over the gorgeous creation. Her dress was light gold, tightly corseted with a full skirt, draped by sweeping folds. Draco gasped slightly but after taking a look at Harry, with his hilt showing slightly underneath his cloak and noting the slight scowl on the visible part of his face, Draco restricted his comments to "Good evening you both look well." Harry's features relaxed and he responded in kind.

Hermione was not so reticent. "Ginny you look stunning! What are you doing with Harry when you could have your pick?" Harry's ready scowl jumped back on his forehead, his white and black skeletal mask moving slightly with the action. "Don't tease him Hermione, you know I had my pick. I picked Harry and I think he looks very dashing, although I am worried he's going to bump into me all night without his glasses." Harry smiled, although under the skeleton mask it looked creepy rather than comforting. "I've had a corrective spell placed on my eyes; it's temporary but the healer said I could go for a permanent correction if I like it."

Moving away from the steps Harry and Ginny looked at Hermione. "You look so beautiful," Ginny sighed. Following suit Harry also complimented her. "Red looks amazing on you, really gorgeous." It was now Ginny's turn to scowl. Harry hastily refrained from further compliments

"Red, Potter? You need to go back to that healer, he obviously made you colour blind. She's wearing green in honour of the noble house of Slytherin."

Harry and Ginny laughed out loud."Obviously members of the noble house of Slytherin have red-green colour blindness." chortled Ginny.

"She's got a serpent wrapped around her arm for Merlins sake!" Draco was getting angry now.

"No she's got a serpent linking arms with her, on her upper arm resides a gold bracelet with a clasp in the image of lion claws."

"Harry! Why the insults? We've only been here five minutes." Hermione was cross.

"Sorry ... habit." he contritely replied.

"It's a good job I've got a pretty girl on my arm, and I'm in a good mood Potter!" Hermione nudged Draco. "Er..Harry." he corrected himself.

"Are you going to explain your dress?" Ginny huffed in exasperation.  
"In a bit, I'm having fun with it, lets mingle." replied Hermione.  
"What time will Ron arrive?" asked Harry.  
"He said he will be late but I imagine he will be in time for the banquet." Hermione replied.

"I like your outfit, you look like the devil." Draco remarked as they began to make their way through the crowds.  
"That was rather the point, I'm the red death." Harry replied, noting how striking Draco's outfit was, but deciding his ego didn't need further inflation by mentioning it.

"Ooooh chilling, Edgar Alan Poe?" Said Draco, displaying a previously unknown literary side.

Harry looked slightly confused as Hermione turned to her escort and laughingly responded, "You never stop surprising do you Draco?"  
Harry huffed in annoyance and briefly wondered who the heck was Edgar Alan Poe? He certainly wasn't going to ask Malfoy.

* * *

At Grimmauld Place, Fleur and Bill were slumped unceremoniously against the wall in a spare bedroom. Grouped around them like carnivorous devils, the hooded and masked Death Eaters silently surveyed the stunned couple.

"Excellent Narcissa, you did well to catch them unawares. You had better see to the idiot Weasley boy. Get to the ball, don't arouse further suspicion. Imperio him, then to the best of your ability, keep him away from his family. I know your methods, employ them." Rabastan instructed.

At this point his brother Rodolphus winced slightly. He had the jealous eye of a possessor, who wanted everyone to know what he owned.

"Keep a watch on Potter and the mudblood he hangs around with. I'm sure I have no need to remind you to watch that traitor Severus." Rabastan concluded his speech. His voice was strangely high pitched, slightly different; the other death eaters shifted slightly, surprised at his tone so reminiscent of the past. His dead eyes locked on Narcissa's and took in her unease.

Narcissa stood uncertainly, trembling very slightly, her pale face almost translucent. Her blond hair was piled high above her head, aging her ever so slightly. She moved towards Rabastan only to hesitate once again.

"Why the hesitation my dear?" the words hissed slowly out of him, high pitched and creepy.

All the Death Eaters now had their full attention on the witch before them. She was looking at Rabastan with a curious expression of mingled understanding and horror.

"The Resurrection stone, is it still safe my master?"

"Do you doubt me? I told you it was in hand, I think the time has come to trust, don't you? See to your commission Narcissa. If you let me down...well, you can trust that you will feel the Dark Lord's displeasure, I can personally guarantee it. Question me again and you will feel my displeasure. Now transform, perform my bidding as we discussed... desist with your preoccupation with the stone." As he spoke he raised his hand and magically shoved Narcissa, so her body was propelled into the opposite wall, her head thunking against it.

She straightened herself and twisted her neck slightly, growling softly. A look of determination settled on her face and the trembling seemed to abate. She began to morph. Her height decreased, the blond tresses began to unwind and flow down her back, the shade getting darker and darker until it was the colour of coal. Narcissa's face became fuller and her figure slighter. Her clothes hung limply, unsuited to this new figure. Narcissa flicked her wand and the dress transfigured to the harlequin's escort.

The assemble of Dark wizards looked on in shock and awe, none had seen her transform before, with the exception of Rabastan. Whispers flew around the room; how did she do that? Was she indeed more powerful than they had previously imagined?

Rodolphus's mouth hung open in amazement. He tentatively walked towards her closing in on her space. She stood still poised and collected; clearly she had mastered her fluctuating emotions, displaying the skill of the occlumens that she had so briefly allowed to drop.

Rodolphus reached out and stroked her face. "You are incredible." He breathed. Narcissa removed his hand firmly, pushing it back down to his side. "Thank you my dear, but this is not yours to touch. I am not your Cissy now, please show some respect." "I can touch what I like." He leered, his face moving close to Cho's image.

BANG! Narcissa's hand shot out faster than a professional gunslinger, the spell shooting the wizard across the room. It wasa almost an imitation of her movements at the Dark Lord's hand mere moments before.

Hoarse laughter echoed around the small room. "Get up! You're embarrassing yourself; you're like a dog in heat." growled Macnair, poking him with his foot. Rodolphus dragged himself to his feet just as Narcissa swept out of the room.

"Time to get to it gentleman, there's work to be done." Rabastan spoke sweetly, ignoring his furious brother.  
With this all the Death Eaters stepped away from the Weasley couple.  
Rabastan pointed his wand at the pair and hissed "Incarcerous." Ropes bound their bodies. "Rookwood, get their wands."

Rookwood moved forwards, removing their wands and then placing them inside his cloak.  
"Good... Very good. Now silence them." Rookwood did as bid muttering " Silencio."  
"Now rouse the sleeping pair, my friend."  
"Enervate." The spell cast, Rookward once again turned his eyes to Rabastan, awaiting his next move. The room was silent yet it rippled with expectation.

Bill and Fleur stirred, their eyes opening at the same time. A few seconds was all it took to review their situation. The panic and fear in Fleur's eyes scared Bill out of his very wits.

"Good evening, how nice of you to receive guests. Don't try to speak now as it's pointless, but pleased be assured Mr Weasley that in a few moments...I expect you to do a lot of talking. Talking me through entering Dumbledore's tomb. Telling me how to get his wand. Am I correct in my understanding that you are a curse breaker? I imagine the tomb to be cursed. Get me into that tomb and you will be spared much pain." Rabastan uttered the counter spell to remove the silencing spell.

"I thought you were dead you miserable excuse for a human being!" spat Bill.

"Clearly not dear boy. I was going to say be careful how you speak to me, I don't want to mark your pretty face, but on closer inspection I see someone got there first. I assume whatever it was spat you back out? Blood traitors do taste bitter I've heard."

" You seem to like the sound of your own voice, you're obviously compensating for something. Were you Voldermort's rent boy? Is that why you're enjoying being the master?" Bill retaliated.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid...You have no idea who you're talking too." Rabastan shook his head from side to side, pretending to contemplate Bill's insults that hurt him not at all.

"I know exactly who I'm speaking to: a lunatic with a god complex! Release us at once! The ministry will deal severely with this!"

"With persuasive talk like that I don't know how I can continue my plans... Actually no... I'm fine, lets take the risk...Crucio! "

Bill yelled out in pain. The sound could be heard throughout the house, but no one was there to hear. Even Kreacher was at Hogwarts assisting the house elf staff. His yells just echoed around the empty house while his wife, still bound and gagged, choked on soundless tears.

"Do I have your attention?" whispered Rabastan, bending down to Bill's level.  
Bill's chest was heaving and his muscles were twitching but he nodded emphatically.  
"Good boy, now, what protection is on Dumbledore's tomb?"  
"I... I... Don't... know" he panted through each word.  
"Wrong answer... Crucio!" The watching Death Eaters laughed as Bill contorted against his magical constraints.

"My time is limited dear boy, and while I admire such courage, I can only abhor its misdirection. I am already limited in my means of making you talk, to my knowledge curse breakers are regularly inoculated against the affects of veritaserum. I assume you're up to date? Frustrating... A pity for you, it means instead of this being already over, painlessly I might add, you have a nasty time ahead of you. I will make you talk even if it's with your dying breath!"

Bill shook his head again, eyes wide with fear but also courage and stubbornness.  
"... So stubborn...well, in that case on her dying breath!" He turned slowly to gaze at Fleur whose eyes were wide with horror, her mouth soundlessly moving as if in prayer.

"Don't ... touch her!" Bill's usually calm and steady voice quivered as he looked at his wife.  
"I don't need to touch her. Levicorpus!" Fleur, still bound by ropes, rose in the air and tipped upside down, her long hair streaming down towards the floor.

Suddenly Rabastan winced. Gazing at his hand, the wizard flexed his hand open and closed, grimacing as he did so. He closed his eyes for a moment as if fighting a headache. Suddenly his eyes shot open.

"Macnair! This is your area I think. It's a little distasteful to me to use crude magic... but also necessary in this case. I understand torture is your forte, particularly female torture. Don't take too long, I have some other business to attend to. I will be back very soon, and I expect you to have the information required on my return." With that Rabastan seemed to stagger out of the room in his rush to leave.

The remaining Death Eaters looked at each other in confusion at their master's sudden disappearance. Macnair removed his mask, a sadistic grin plastered across his face.  
He approached the hanging body, her face hung opposite his own. He tilted his own face in a attempt to be on her level so he was awkwardly looking at her eye to eye.  
"Hello pretty...let's play." Fleur spat straight in his face. His grin did not abate. "My turn I think."

He straightened up, grabbed at her long hair, and began winding the length around his fist. He yanked his hand back with extreme force, ripping the hair from her scalp. If she could have made a sound it would have been excruciating to every ear. She swung to and fro in her convulsions of pain. Macnair raised the hair to his face and wiped her spit off with it, then he threw it in her husband's horrified face.

Bill was in utter anguish, unable to think coherently in his distress. "Please...please... stop!"  
"Begging, how I love the sound of begging. You know what you have to do blood traitor...spill! " Macnair waited for Bill to collect himself.

"There are numerous curses, first of all; anyone who has the intention of grave robbing will not be able to see the tomb. If you break this spell, you then have to open the tomb, there is a riddle to solve in order to achieve this. The contents of the burial chamber have a duplicating curse on them, so a genuine article is hard to find. Hands that seek to steal will also start to burn when in close contact with the inside of the tomb. Now please release my wife." Bill evidently felt this was enough information.

"Much better, now tell us how to get past all those things." barked Macnair  
"I don't know." Bill said.  
"I do believe that's another wrong answer. You're very poor at this game. You should know the penalty for a wrong answer. Let's hear her scream this time." The wizard removed the silencing curse that had been placed on Fleur.

She shouted out the moment the curse was lifted, "Don't tell him any more Bill, eet eez fine! I would rather die then 'elp them."  
Bill had tears streaming down his face at this point. " But our child...I'm so sorry Fleur, I thought this was all over." He said thickly through the tears running down his face. "Eet eez not your fault" Fleur smiled gently at him from her ungainly position.

"I think I'm going to be sick...so touching, but once she starts screaming it will be nothing, and how interesting to learn about the addition." He prodded her stomach with his wand and performed yet another unforgivable. "Crucio!"

BANG! Macnair shot into the air and flipped over before landing sprawled on the floor. The curse for some reason, had rebounded.

Bill was shouting out now, encouraging his wife, declaring his love, nearly going crazy not being able to help any more than he was.  
Macnair was swearing furiously on the floor, confused as to why he had been on the receiving end of his own curse. "Dolohov, take over!" He breathed as he struggled to gain his strength back.

"Sectumsempra!" Dolohov cursed her immediately, with obscene pleasure.  
Cuts opened up on Fleur, they began bleeding copiously, dripping slowly at first and then faster. "Upside down, bleeding like a butchers pig, how long do you think she has Weasley?"

Bill stared at his almost unconscious wife and seemed to make a decision.  
"I can get you past two curses but that's all. Hermione and Severus were the only other protectors. Their protection was added recently, Neither are aware of the other's involvement. Dumbledore's portrait arranged it. He is the inspiration to all the new precautions . Only a few weeks ago he contacted me to say he was arranging this extra security. At the time I thought he was being paranoid. Clearly not."

" We are listening, and you had better be about to tell us how to get past the spells you personally know about."  
Bill once again looked at his wife. "Yes...yes I will tell you what I know. Just don't hurt her anymore."

Macnair grinned showing his dirty broken teeth. "If your information is worth while... I will let her down, if ... she's not dead already." The wizard had seemingly gotten over the shock of his failed Cruciatus curse, and now he was ready to taunt his prey again.

Nobody noticed that although Fleur bled profusely when first cursed, the bleeding had quickly stopped. Surprisingly she was not on the edge of death as Macnair suggested, her body was merely shutting down non essential activity to protect her.

Bill however was not aware how well Fleur was coping, he just saw his wife hanging upside down covered in blood, unconscious, as still as death.  
He decided to give away what information he could, and trust in the ingenuity of his friends to prevent further damage. So he continued "You will need to get someone to take you to the tomb, someone who is innocent and has no idea that you mean to steal, you will have to trick someone. You will still not be able to see it, or feel it, so you will need to get your innocent party to open the tomb. They must say the following incantation: 'Aperire et revelare mortuis.' The tomb will then open, and you will then be able to see the inside because as to my knowledge, the inside of the tomb has not been hidden from villainous sight."

"Well that's easy Macnair, you can just Imperio some worthless student to open the tomb for us. Better still get the younger Weasley boy to do it, he's already under the Imperio curse." Dolohov interrupted excitedly.

Bill groaned as he realised his youngest brother was also in trouble. "Ron.." He muttered sadly. He corrected the Death Eaters' reasoning though. "The tomb will not open to anyone under the Imperio curse, it will recognise magical compulsion and physical force. I can not help you further as I was not involved in the design of further curses."

"Finite Incantatem!"Macnair released Fleur from the curse. "Mobilicorpus!"  
He levitated the body to Bills side. "Rookwood, check her."  
Rookwood hurried over and to his surprise found her heartbeat steady and her breathing even. "She's fine."  
Bill breathed a sigh of relief. "Don't make a mistake Weasley, we are not generous. You are alive because you're still useful. We will keep her alive because we can only get through to you by hurting her." Rookwood made their position very clear. "Antonin! Get the Polyjuice."

Macnair walked over to Bill and ripped a hair from his scalp, at the same time retrieving some of Fleur's from the floor.  
Dolohov returned with the potion, they added the hair, and then they drank the revolting mixtures with barely a shudder.  
A moment later In the middle of the room in their Death Eater robes were Bill and Fleur's likeness.

"We really should have taken the witche's clothes off before she bled on them Macnair."  
"No matter, I'm sure we can make you presentable my darling." Macnair answered glibly.  
"Oh nice, you can drool over me in the body of a near Veela but I have to pretend to be married to dog food face. I'm warning you McNair, keep your hands to yourself you pervert."  
" I was hoping you would give Mr. Weasley here a little show." Macnair grabbed Dolohov's new womanly behind as he spoke.

Bill was muttering swear words and insults under his breath, not daring to shout them out loud and risk making things worse.

"What the hell Macnair! Do that again and I will make you wish you were back in Azkaban."  
His friend laughed delightedly, "Seriously Antonin, you're going to have to pretend to want me."  
"You're going to need to pretend to be a gentleman or by Merlin we are in trouble, you dirty little..." Bill couldn't stand it any more "You're going to get caught in five seconds you disgusting excuses for wizards."

The two Death Eaters stopped bickering and glared at the prone Wizard. The maniacal laughter of Rodolphus and Rookwood further enraged them.

"Denudabunt!" screamed Macnair pointing his wand at Fleur. Her bloody robes disappeared leaving her bound and naked, he turned then to Bill and repeated this action, while Bill called him every name under the sun. Dolohov also raised his wand and directed a spell at each of their mouths. "Imatate Ibi Vox."

The next words from Macnair's mouth came in Bill Weasley's voice and uttered a stunning spell to knock the real couple out again. Their bound and naked bodies once again slumped against each other.

"Rodolphus can watch over them while Antonin and myself infiltrate the ball." Bill's voice growled out harshly. Macnair was now dressed in Bill's robes.

"What about me?" Rabastan queried

"Tell him what has occurred, ask him how to proceed; we have enough information to make a start. We must not be any later for the ball. We can use the floo to return frequently , we will arrange for you to enter Hogwarts too, my darling pregnant wife will frequently need a toilet break, won't you sweet?"

"Zat eez correct Bill, we will come back 'ere for my convenience." Dolohov smiled Fleur's smile, wearing Fleur's robes, now cleaned by magic. His voice was the perfect Imitation of the unconscious woman.

After this, the gruesome couple left to join the party while the remaining Death Eaters watched the Weasley's and awaited Rabastan's pleasure.


	26. Dance with me

**_Hello, this is a long chapter. I'm sorry but my beta is very busy, she's going to get it done next week, so if you want to read it later that's fine because it will be better when she's finished with it. However if you are impatient like me, or you have had to much wine,like me! Read. Apologies anyway, this chapter is abit self indulgent, also very wordy. Murder and action in following chapters. Again sorry this is slow, I enjoyed it! Sorry if you hate it. Comments are nice. But you might want to wait for the beta version before I'm flamed_**

Professor Snape sat in his office, his favourite whiskey glass nestling in his palm, he swirled the liquid around the crystal, releasing the velvety scent. The habit had become so frequent, the glass, almost felt like an extension of his own hand. Poetic and Byronic, but on reflection, not good. 'Have I escaped one servitude for another form of slavery? Could I take it or leave it?Or is the demon drink my new master?' Questions he didn't want to answer, possibly ones he couldn't. " Sobering thoughts indeed " He said aloud, replacing his glass on the table. The professor leaned back on his chair, lounging with a casual grace, that was surprising in the normally formal man. His black eyes watched the fire jump and crackle, the colours starting to reflect and to absorb into the darkness. The low light and the warmth of the glow filled him, and his eyes began to close. Suddenly a loud cracking noise filled the room. Snape immediately sat bolt upright, jolted out of his near slumber. The cause of the noise, was immediately apparent in the form, of an elderly house elf.

"Kreacher! Since when has it become acceptable practice, to appear uninvited, In my office?"

"My apologies sir, I mistook your command. I thought I was to return when I had fulfilled my mission."

Kreacher's voice quivered as his eyes roamed the office for something suitable to beat himself with. His eyes lit up and his arms flew out to grab Snape's decanter. "I will punish myself, stupid Kreacher always in the wrong!"

Snape reached out with lightening speed to grab the Elf's boney little wrist, before his precious decanter got sacrificed He stared at the trembling elf, a scathing retort ready to fly from his tight lips.

Kreachers tired old eyes were averted in fear, as he awaited his punishment.

Snape sighed, and pity filled him, and for the first time in many years he could act on it.

"Punishment will not be necessary ... my friend." He winced slightly at the unfamiliar phrase.

"F... F...friend?" Stuttered the shocked house elf still cringing under Snape's tight grip."

Seeing that his decanter had been forgotten, Snape released his hold. "Yes kreacher why not? We both put our trust in the wrong people, we have both been used. So comradeship is surely acceptable. I will not now, or ever ask you to punish yourself in such barbaric methods. "

"With respect Sir... are you drunk?" Questioned the elf who was once again eyeing the decanter nervously."

Snape followed his gaze, huffing in annoyance, as he too rested his eyes on the crystal.

"Why would you ask that?"

"Because you are drinking Sir, and... Why would you ever want to be friends... With me?"

Snape closed his eyes for a moment almost as if in pain.'I should of told him to iron his ears' he thought grimly. The wizard then started to talk himself out of the mess his moment of compassion had left him in.

"I'm tired Kreacher, I'm also losing patience... I have, had a drink, I'm certainly not intoxicated. Clearly the concept of freedom and comradeship is too much for you. I will make it simple, suffice it to say, you have no need to call me Sir. However, that doesn't mean you can appear in my office uninvited. In future, knock at my door,and if its convenient, you will be welcome. Now ...just tell me what you wanted, and let's forget this frankly disturbing conversation."

Kreacher was looking up at Snape, like he was a dog that could bite at any moment.

He rang his hands together in a nervous gesture.

"I'm sorry Sir..."began Kreacher. Snape sighed. "I just wanted to tell you, I have left the gifts for my masters friend where she will find them. I left them in her Study."

He bowed slightly and started to back away towards the door.

Snape was startled for a moment, he'd forgotten the job he gave Kreacher. The poor elf obviously had good reason to think him intoxicated having made such a foolish decision, and then to forget about it! Pure, base, idiocy.

"Alright Kreacher, thank you. You can go now." Kreacher bowed and left the room.

Snape sat down once again, thoroughly awake and completely annoyed with himself.

'Like a bloody teenager, What was I thinking? ' Severus Snape had asked himself many questions that evening, he didn't like the answers to any of them. He hoped Hermione would see the gift as a thank you and no more, because of-course that was all it was, then he remembered the rose. He groaned softly, resting his forehead against his finger tips, covering his eyes with his palm.

"Damn!" He exclaimed softly. 'Maybe she will think the rose came from someone else ... I didn't leave a note... Hell, coupled with the poetry book I didn't need to, it was obvious, you idiot! A few whiskeys, a moment of self indulgence, equalling to the third most stupid thing I've ever done.' He berated himself, cringing at the thought of explaining the gifts to anyone, let alone Hermione.

He knew everyone would be getting ready for the ball now. Possibly in the excitement, she wouldn't notice the gift, maybe during the feast he could get Kreacher to bring them back. 'I am a coward' he thought glumly.

He had a few hours before the feast, people were only just arriving at the castle. His head ached, Snape turned his attention to the fire and magically enhanced it trying to drift off to sleep once more. He did succeed and for an hour he slept off his headache and his problems.

"Severus... Severus, wake up" The Scottish voice was low and insistent. A cool and calm hand swept over his face pushing his long black hair out of his eyes. The slumbering professor jolted slightly and opened his eyes slowly. The headmistress was leaning over him, trying to rouse him gently. "Good evening Severus, have you slept it off?" she asked primly, glancing at his near empty decanter.

Snape struggled to sit up properly.

"You must be very tired, or very hung over, I don't think I have ever caught you unawares before, you've always remind me of poor Mad eye, with his 'constant vigilance' but your guard was well and truly down there wasn't it, dear? It's a good job I mean you no harm." She finished smugly, waiting for his explosion.

Snape stood up carefully, pushing professor McGonagall to one side. He straightened his clothes and adjusted his cuffs.

"Yes you do Minerva, you never visit me without trying to inflict harm. You are the second person to enter my office with out permission and accuse me of drinking to much. Do I still have human rights? Am I not allowed to be at peace and relax , maybe... perish the thought ... sleep? I think I've earned it Now the dark lord is no more. Pardon me if I'm wrong, I thought peace was what we fought for!"

Severus Snape waited calmly for the headmistress' response.

"It was indeed what we fought for, although I fear you will not find your own personal peace in the bottom of that decanter, please for your sanity stop looking in the bottle for the things your missing. I'm sorry you feel I have infringed on your privacy, Unfortunately it has been brought to my attention, by a certain deranged portrait, that I care about you, as a colleague and as a friend. After much heated protestation, It's been made clear to me that the old dingbat may be correct. I don't want to watch you go down this path, we could be friends Severus, but don't worry, I understand if you can't accept that, however you need to understand, that I will never stop trying to be a friend."

The intimidating witch looked Snape straight in the eye, The wizard before her calmly returned the eye contact.

Although inside he suddenly realised how Kreacher had felt only an hour or so ago, when he had offered friendship; Unworthy and confused, but unlike the Elf he'd be damned if he would show it.

"Minerva, friends don't spy, true friends respect privacy." He said quietly

"You were a spy, but you did it for a friendship, you did it or Lilly..."

At this Snape interrupted with a shake of his head. "Don't! please, I don't want to continue this conversation... Please respect me... Just this once, your talking nonsense anyway, so ...just be quiet."

"Tis the privilege of friendship to talk nonsense, and to have her nonsense respected." Replied McGonagall in the hope of engaging Snape in their usual game and hopefully lightening the mood.

Snape smiled thinly and decided to play, "There is no surer foundation for a beautiful friendship than a mutual taste in literature. I think we have established we read the same books, lets just keep our conversation there. I do thank you Minerva, I know you mean well. Please knock next time you visit or send a message. Again that's the second time I've said that today, it's getting old."

McGonagall raised her eye brow, "Two friends in one day? Your on a roll my dear."

"Friends don't spy, remember ?" Came the low growl.

"I remember, but I also recall banging very loudly on your door a few moments ago, without getting a response from you. You are always quick to respond, so I was worried, friends worry, hence the intrusion into your private world of solitude and whiskey."

"My patience... Wearing thin." His smile had now disappeared in irritation.

"Yes... Yes, I'm sure it is, so is mine. Why in Merlins name are you not ready for the ball?"

"My god woman, have you lost your memory? Did we or did we not have this very argument only a few days ago?"

"Yes Severus we did, and if my memory serves me correctly I won it!"

"Your memory is defective. I did not agree."

Minerva made her way to the door, smiling slightly. "Yes-you-did! you did not agree to dress up, thats fine by me. You have thirty minutes Severus, you can miss the gathering in the entrance hall, but you will be there for the for the feast, and the dance! Have a shower, you smell like a distillery, gargle something minty , drink some coffee."

"No." Snape looked at her with mutinous eyes.

"You look eleven again, I'm almost tempted to take away house points. However I can resort to blackmail, you were very sweet when you were sleep talking."

Snape scowled feeling his authority slipping away under the ministrations of his own former teacher.

"Pull yourself together Severus, and get a move on."

Then like a mother after chastising a child, she flounced out of the room in full confidence that Severus would do as he was told.

* * *

The last few guests dribbled in, the moment had arrived. Eight o'clock heralded the opening of the doors to the great hall.

Gasps and sighs filled the air as wizards and witches took in the beauty of the Grandiose centre of hogwarts with it's endlessly vaulted ceiling, it reflected a night of icy starlight. Candles floated midway adding warmth to the vision.

The usual dining furniture had been transfigured. Small mahogany cocktail tables now scattered around the sides of the room, each one with a silver wine cooler, and a crystal globe, enchanted fire glowed from the midst of the decoration. Ice sculptures graced the sides of the hall, twisted icy trees their branches draping high over head, tiny gold apples glistened from the ends of the silver branches. Under the trees, Carved out of the frigid ice, Tall elegant figurines, depicting dancing women, sharp, austere, yet intoxicatingly beautiful.

Silver trays, laden with crystal wine goblets, hovered towards the guests as they flowed through the door. Attention was then drawn to the Corner of the room, an orchestral ensemble was magically playing Tchaikovsky, The Sleeping beauty waltz. Musician less violins and violas, were suspended at neck height, whilst the bows, unheld, stroked across the strings. Cellos without cellists, spun dramatically, the low reverberating sound deliciously filling the hall. Most fascinating was the baton, charmed by Proffesor flitwick; it was emphatically conducting the phantom orchestra, suspended in mid air, making artistic sweeping movements, as if by an invisible hand.

People soon grouped around the tables, pouring out wine taken from from the ice buckets. The swish and sway of crepe's and silks, accompanied by the chink of glasses, the pops of corks, and of course the tinkling sound of wine splashing onto fine crystal, sounds that seemed rhythmically in tune to the music.

Harry and Draco led their dates to a table, and poured them wine. Hermione smiled gratefully at Draco as she took the glass from his out stretched hand. Turning round to survey the room, she was pleased to notice Molly, Arthur and Percy Weasley. She spotted them easily all three were badly disguised, Molly having just a fur trimmed hooded cloak and a small hand held mask. Hermione wasn't even sure what Arthur was trying to be, but he was at least wearing a small black mask, whereas Percy hadn't bothered at all and wore his usual dress robes with a complimentary supercilious expression on his face. Two other wizards stood with this family, Hermione immediately recognised one, as she had suggested the outfit, George was Punchinello, the colourful hunchback outfit with his old beater club was very affective, and coupled with the mask with it's massive nose, very funny and very George. Hermione wondered sadly what Fred would have come dressed as had he still been alive.

Charlie she guessed, due to his red hair, he was dressed as a highway man and very dashing he was too. She waived towards them mouthing that she would come over in a minute.

They returned the smiles and Molly Weasley waved. They were putting on a brave face.

It was strange to see the Great hall full of adults with not a child insight. Although a few war heroes invited were Mid teens, because of this Hermione detected a charm on the wine, it would not pour for anyone under eighteen. 'Pure Genius' she thought.

Many of the Professors were all ready mingling in the crowd, The headmistress however was a slightly late arrival, her robes seemed very similar to her normal ones, but she did wear a cat mask that looked very nice on her.

When the orchestra finished playing, and all the guests were in the hall Professor McGonigall walked over to the familiar lectern to begin her welcome address.

"Hogwarts welcomes you all this evening, to thank you, for everything you have done, for everything you have sacrificed ..." at this pause, silence shrouded the room, heads bowed in contemplation, the giggles and whispers turned of like a tap with only unshed tears threatening to drip. "for all who are here, be courageous! Enjoy the life you have fought for. Let the lives of those lost not be in vain, they fought so their friends and family's could be safe and happy. Allow our departed comrades to be victorious. Show their memories it was worth it. So Many are struggling over the guilt of survival, Some are unable to join us today, the sorrow to great for them to bare. A few have been cajoled or encouraged to this party by well meaning friends. I urge you to keep meaning well, to keep building friendships, to look out for those hurting, to take care of those made fragile. In unity we have strength, Continue to fight for happiness. But for Tonight ... eat, drink, dance, and please laugh because it really is the best medicine, for one friend in particular, it's what he would have wished to hear. There will be no more speeches tonight, no more needs to be said. So In the time honoured tradition, and in the words of my very dear friend, let the feast commence." Professor McGonagall's eyes hazed over as she fought her own emotions, she turned to Dumbledores portrait, glad of her decision to reposition it for the evening, she smiled through the mist.

"Thank you Albus" she whispered.

Dumbledore's own eyes appeared moist like fresh paint. Proving that portraits could indeed cry, he began to clap and the sound filled the room as everyone began to applaud.

Hermione trembled as did Ginny, full of emotion and memory's. Harry looked dazed as he thought about all the things they'd been through. Draco dug him in the ribs nodding towards Ginny. Harry cursed himself that it was Draco who had noticed Ginny's need of comfort, yet as he folded his arms around his girlfriend he looked over her shoulder and gave a grateful nod of thanks.

Hermione was gazing at the Weasley's, who like many family's were hugging and kissing each other and her heart went out to them, she saw to her relief that Ron and Cho had arrived, Cho was stood awkwardly, watching Ron embrace George.

Fleur and Bill had also arrived, they were removed somewhat from the family, appearing to take their comfort from each other. Hermione thought Fleur must be very emotional, as her usual breathtaking radiance seemed missing. Straightening herself she turned back to Draco whom she noticed had placed his hand on her shoulder, his masked face bent close to her ear, he whispered words she never imagined would come from him, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I was one of those that would happily have caused you pain, I wish I had no guilt, I wish I'd been a hero, not a villain, then I could offer you real comfort."

His comical nose pushed at her cheek Making her smile through her tears.

"You do offer comfort Draco, your the prodigal son... the one that is rejoiced over, because you were lost and now your found. There's darkness in all of us Draco,just some keep the light on all the time, so you only glimpse slight shadows. I'm glad you Had the chance to turn on your light, don't let the shadows haunt you. You can be a hero now."

It was at this point that Draco was very glad to have his mask on, he felt his manly reputation would defiantly be lost with out it, he coughed slightly, "Ok witch, point out this useless pretty boy your after so I can prove I'm a better catch."

Hermione smiled at how far off the mark he was, and wondered if the professor that unnervingly filled her thoughts, was also one of the ones mentioned, who couldn't come to the party, as he was nowhere to be seen.

"I can assure you that Draco Malfoy is the best looking man of my acquaintance." she said with a twinkle in her eye.

"I know... But it's always nice to have it reaffirmed." his usual casual arrogance slipped back into place.

They both giggled and it appeared to be infectious. It was as if a spell had been broken, a ripple of laughter rolled around the room , the chattering bubbled forth once again, having now acknowledged their departed friends, the guests seemed ready and determined to enjoy the party.

The orchestra struck up another refrain, this time it was the carnival of the animals, the music of the aquarium. Warmth one again flooded the room. Aperitifs and Hors d'oeuvre's began to appear on the little tables and on floating trays, people began to relax and enjoy. Hermione wandered over to Molly and Arthur and chatted for a while.

Cho surprised Hermione by giving her a massive hug, Ron was taken back too by Cho's apparent desire to be friendly with the girl she always seemed to dislike, she slipped her arm through Hermione's then squeezed gently and whispered in her ear."Your so beautiful, I would say the most beautiful girl here . Your dress is amazing, how it keeps changing colour, very unique."

Hermione felt very uncomfortable being flamboyantly praised by this unfamiliar clingy Cho, so she very quickly, but politely, removed herself from her proximity. She used Professor Slughorn as her excuse, he was conveniently trying to get her attention anyway. He was always looking out for members of his old slug club. From the corner of her eye she saw Draco still with Harry, he was nervously looking around the room. When he felt Hermione look over, he immediately emboldened his stance and swaggered over to her, so they could greet professor Slughorn together.

"Hello sir." they said in unison "My my, the best witch in your year... And might I add... the most attractive." Hermione cringed a little as he kissed her hand. "How are you sir?" asked Draco removing her hand from Slughorn's grasp and holding it by his side uncompromisingly. "I'm very well err..."

"Malfoy sir." sighed Draco.

"Ahh Yes...yes indeed, Mr Malfoy..." he turned back to Hermione "Things are nearly back to normal, it's really wonderful to see and hear news from all my old friends and pupils, I've even got myself tickets for the Holy Head Harpies again from the lovley Gwenog Jones." he took a self satisfied sip of his wine, then continued "How enchanting you look in my house colours my dear, I never thought to see you sport them. I fear it's not for my benefit... But Mr err..." he broke off again squinting at Draco.

"Malfoy sir." Draco supplied again with barely suppressed irritation.

"Quite." murmured The old professor turning once again to Hermione. "Is that so Miss Granger? are you trying to Impress a former member of my house, give me a twirl my dear, let me see the full effect."

Hermione tried to oblige but was restricted, Draco refused to let go of her hand, so he raised her arm and twirled her in a dance move instead.

"Enchanting quite enchanting" gushed the professor. Hermione was quite pink with embarrassment now, but she thanked him and urged Draco to lead her back to Harry.

Many people watched Hermione with the Scaramouche, and those who didn't know, wondered who was spinning her round so prettily.

Cho was also watching,with an undefinable expression on her face."Who's Hermione with Ron?" She asked grasping at his arm. "Draco Malfoy, the ferrety arse."He replied. "What's she doing with a death eater, that's so irresponsible and very stupid!" Cho asked furiously.

"Well he's technically a reformed death eater, forgive and forget they say. Why do you care Cho?" Ron queried grumpily.

"I don't like to see anyone flirt with danger Ron" She replied.

"Maybe I should stop talking to you then." he laughed "Maybe you should" Cho responded Playfully, as they walked towards Luna to say hello.

"for Merlins sake Draco let go of me." hissed Hermione in exasperation."I'm only protecting you from the Slug." he grimaced. "I don't need protecting silly. Old sluggys harmless, very charming actualy."

"Well at least he proves Po..Harry's colour blind! Red indeed, the fuss Slughorn just made because you are all in green."

"Neville!" Hermione shouted as her friend came past. "Hi Hermione, care for a dance later?" "That will be lovley if Luna can spare you." Neville blushed slightly."Hey Nev, what colour is my dress?" Neville looked confused at the question. "What?" "it's not a trick Neville." she laughed. "Oh yeah well Red isn't it?" Hermione nodded "Thanks Nev." "Oh ok, must get back to Luna, catch you later for the dance."

At this point, Draco spotted Padma Patil walking past and called for her attention. "Hi , its Padma isn't it?"

"I might be, I might not. How could you know? My mask completely covers my face!" Padma was a little indignant.

"Your wearing a sarong! it could only be you or your sister, am I wrong?""No as it happens your not, who are you? I recognise your voice."

"I will leave you to guess, Padma can you tell me what colour Hermione's dress is?"

"Is this some stupid game? It's blue!"

She sniffed and stalked off not thinking highly of the Mystery buccaneer.

Draco rounded on Hermione "What the hell Granger?"

"Ok ... it's veela made, it's colour matches itself with the Hogwarts house that a witch or wizard is affiliated with, Or if not a Hogwarts student the colour that most attracts the person looking." as she explained, Hermione thought about Cho, why did she think it changed colours? Surely she should have seen blue?" her train of thought was broken when Draco asked her another question.

"So I assume you see red when you look at your own dress?" Draco looked disappointed for a moment.

"The strange thing is Draco, that is exactly what I thought I would see when I ordered it. I actually see green. Weird a?"

"You are ... very, but it works for you."

Draco answered seriously.

"Give over will you. Let's look for a girl friend for you. She looks nice over there..." Draco turned in the direction she pointed and they squabbled happily.

A gigantic banquet table soon appeared in the middle of the room, high backed chairs surrounded it.

Little place cards indicated where people were to sit. When everyone was seated, Hermione noticed an empty chair near the head mistresses's seat, it seemed the empty spot had caught McGonigall's attention too, she was looking at the chair and angrily muttering to herself.

'it's professor Snape's ' Hermione thought shrugging off her feeling of disappointment. She turned her attention to the feast. As with previous balls a menu was in front of each person, everyone spoke aloud the dish they required, it then appeared in front of them. The food as usual was sublime.

Harry and Ginny were listening out for fleur's usual 'eet eez too eavy, all zis ogwart's food' But to their surprise she was happily wolfing it down. "Married life's turned her into a pig!" Ginny whispered to Harry "I hope she gets really fat." she finished gleefully

"I like Fleur, your too harsh, although she doesn't look as devastating as usual." As soon as he said the words he regretted it. "I think devastating may have been the wrong word, Ugly ... that's better." he corrected quickly.

"Thank you Harry, I'm aware that she's part veela, so she's not going to be a munter is she? It makes no difference, your not allowed to think she's good looking." Ginny prodded Harry in the chest for emphasis.

"Ouch ... yeah, fine, message received. Although I did say she doesn't look herself today." Harry said while rubbing the sore spot on his chest.

"No she doesn't, anyway I'm fed up of talking about her, lets talk about someone else." Ginny said dismissively.

Watching different people eating their food through an array of masks was proving most entertaining. Those with full masks and extra large noses were particularly hilarious. They had to remove their masks which exposed the identities of some wearing the more extrovert outfits; to much laughter.

Hermione enjoyed her meal and the conversation but continued to glance at the empty chair.

"What do you keep staring over there for?" Malfoy asked.

"Do I ? ... Sorry...what were you saying?"

"That Girl" he pointed "What's her name?"

Hermione looked over, "Astoria Greengrass, she's a little young Draco, I'm not even sure how she got an invite. Wait a minute... I think she won a composition competition writing about the battle. I think attendance to the Hero's ball was the prize." replied Hermione.

The wizard whistled softly and said,

"who cares how she got in...she's hot."

"Merlins beard, give your libido a rest. She looks like a young version of your mum, you must have mummy issues."

The pained look that shot across his now unmasked face, told Hermione that she had badly judged her flippant comment.

"Sorry, I was just teasing, I wasn't thinking. Have you heard anymore about her whereabouts?"

Draco had finished his meal, so he sharply pushed back from the table, snapping his mask back on.

"Are you hiding Draco?your not five."Hermione's voice was low and gentle, even with its slight rebuke.

"Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask,and he will tell you the truth." The young man quoted gently.

"Thats a lovely quotation, Oscar Wilde my favourite. Does this mean you want to tell me how you feel? No jokes."Hermione pushed her own plate away and leaned towards her new friend.

"Sure." he shrugged noncommittally.

"What are you scared of?"

Hermione asked quietly.

"I'm scared that this war might not be over! Something feels wrong. I'm scared for my father, I'm frightened of my father. I'm scared of myself, It's Concerning me that right now all I want to do is chain smoke, its making me so uncomfortable just being here, that all I can do to survive this party is to pretend I'm someone else, and make jokes, tease and flirt. I miss my mother, I'm scared she's dead. The very thought of that makes me want to cry, hence the mask is back on; because I'm also scared to look weak. Is that enough honesty for you? At least you have never thought much of me, it's Hardly possible now to think less."

Hermione silently surveyed Draco, gaining nothing from his posture seeing nothing from his masked face. But hearing the breaks in his voice told her plainly that he was on the edge. She was pleased for his sake that everyone around them seemed so engrossed in their own conversations, to overhear theirs.

"Yes your right, I thought you the most spineless bully I have ever met. That was the past, what you just admitted too was really brave. It's a wonderful quality to care about your family, I respect that, I respect you, You are right to fear the future, I think the war is not quite over either, something's happening, Its frightening me too. Your mother is defiantly involved in some way, we will find her Draco...We need to see professor Snape, we need more information about when he thinks he saw Narcissa. If he doesn't turn up to the party we will have to find him. You can talk to him, I irritate him."

"Why am I not surprised? You should tone down the insufferable know it all part of your personality. You irritate me." Draco seemed to have mastered himself once more, glancing around he could see most had finished eating and preparations were starting for the Dance.

"I think I will freshen up, would you get me a glass of wine while I go to the ladies?" Hermione asked

"Yeah ok, don't take to long."

As Draco set off to find drinks the table disappeared and all the guests started to mingle again.

The music became louder and people began to sway with the music.

Hagrid was once again trying to encourage Madame Maxine to dance with him. George was chatting to Angelina. Everywhere Draco looked he could see witches and wizards forging new relationships or cementing old ones. ' How heart warming.' he thought bitterly.

In the meantime, the headmistress had walked off to exit the hall in high dudgeon, She made for the direction of Snape's office. Only to nearly walk in to him in the corridor.

"My apologies Minerva, I assume you were once again making your way to my hole, in order to drag me out? I've saved you the inconvieniance. I missed the feast as I had other matters to attend to. I am now sufficiently clean and sober... To endure this charade." he sneared.

Minerva, took on his fresh sharp appearance, noted that he had indeed just put on his usual teaching robes , and decided to punish him.

Her wand shot out towards his face.

" Adhaerere phantasma!"

A phantom of the opera mask suddenly adhered to professor Snape's face.

With his dramatic teaching robes he needed no further costume.

"I should just turn round and leave."

He growled. To his credit he didn't even flinch at her attack, neither did he attempt to take the mask off, Due to his knowledge of Minerva's ability with permanent sticking charms, he knew it was futile to even try to remove it.

"You should, but you won't Severus. Your curious to see the wizarding world you helped save, the one you have been hiding from. When I think you have stayed long enough I will remove the mask."

"Stop psycho analysing me, and get back in the hall before our entrance causes a scene." he sniped.

"Your entrance always causes a scene, you can't help yourself." She retorted.

He snarled and strode off to the Great hall. Discreetly he opened the door and slid unobtrusively into the party.

He positioned himself at the far end of the room and swept his eye over the Crowd 'All the usual suspects' he thought.

Then as if alerted, he turned to see Hermione walking over to a wizard who held out a glass of wine to her.

Hermione felt the pull of someone's eyes on her. She looked up uncertainty, to her surprise she met the gaze of the phantom across the room.

He took a sharp intake of breath. 'What was she wearing? She looked... Grown up. Worse she looked alluring. A temptress in green silk, was it backless?' Professor Snape had a sudden urge to take his cloak off and throw it over her. Demanding she put something sensible on.

'My God is that a serpent on her upper arm? What was she thinking?where was Minerva's Gryffindor princess? And who in gods name was that dribbling all over her?why the hell I'm I even asking these infantile questions?' As these thoughts raced around his usually ordered mind, he tried to look away from her, but failed.

Hermione had lowered her gaze, in the hope that Draco hadn't noticed who had caught her attention. Her heart thundered away and she could barely hear what Draco was saying.

"Hermione? What's wrong? Your looking flushed, are you too hot?"

"No I'm fine honestly." she knocked back her wine in one throw, handed the empty glass back to Draco and said "Dance with me!"

"Steady on old girl, what was that Dutch courage?"

"Something like that. Look, Harry's setting up the jukebox with everyone's music requests."

And indeed the classical music that had been played continually, all evening by the magical orchestra, had ceased. A huge magical jukebox was up in its place. As the music started, Hermione let out a little squeal,

"I think it's my request... Yes it is, knock your drink back Draco and give me a twirl."

Draco grinned, put the empty glasses on a passing silver tray and dragged Hermione to the dance floor.

His rough handling caused her to jolt and the mask slipped off her wrist unnoticed. Another dancer kicked it accidentally, it slid across the floor to the feet of Severus Snape.

Long pale fingers reached down and grasped the handle. He groaned when he saw the rose entwined around the stick. He stroked the black petal and swore softly.

He knew it had been pointless to try and steal this back from her room. The chances were that she also knew exactly who sent it.

He had heard Hermione ask the wizard with her to dance. Snape now knew it was Draco beneath the mask. His surprise was only matched by his unreasonable annoyance.'was that why she was wearing green?'

"Are you alright my boy?"

Snape looked up in surprise, he was positioned right under Dumbledores portrait.

"I'm fine Albus."

"Are you sure? Your standing as though your in pain."

"I...I'm out of sorts, nothing insurmountable."

What does the pain feel like?" Dumbledores voice was full of concern as he ignored Snape's denials, while he looked searchingly down at his one time spy.

Snape paused, torn between telling the portrait to shut the hell up and between makeing an admittance. To his own surprise he verbalised his pain. "I ...I feel like I can't breathe... It ... It feels like jealousy."

And with a swish of his cloak he walked away from the portrait before he could hear Dumbledore's reply. Dumbledore stroked his chin gently. "Yes, I rather thought it did." he said quietly.

Draco spun Hermione round with other couples, all doing passing imitations of the venetian waltz.

The refrain of David Bowie singing As the world falls down, coupled with the wine and spinning, was making Hermione feel a-little giddy. She clung on to Draco tightly, trying to shake of the feeling of being watched.

Mid dance Draco turned his head to the side, leaned forward to Hermione's ear and breathed "Why is My godfather fascinating you so much?"


	27. A chaste Kiss

Hermione stiffened in Draco's arms. "I don't know what you mean." Draco smirked and continued to spin her round. "Horrifying...your a bit old for a school girl crush. He's defiantly to old for you, mind you he's scrubbed up well tonight, I don't think I've ever seen him with his hair tied back. Anyway to my memory he's always been meticulous in showing his dislike of you, and yet my Godfather is now staring at me like he would like to use an unforgivable."

Hermione was trying to concentrate on her steps, dancing was not her forte, although surprisingly Draco was a good partner, and a good dancer can lead his lady with relative ease despite any lack of skill, even so she stumbled slightly when Draco mentioned his godfather's fixation on her.

"Professor Snape is not looking at me... or you, he is strictly professional at all times." She said primly while recovering her step.

"who's the rose off?"He asked smugly.

"I don't know." she snapped.

Draco laughed "well this is unexpected, very entertaining"

"oh shut up." she snapped.

"no need to be rude." he rebuked

The dance came to an end and a new song began.

"May I cut in?" Draco looked up to see Bill Weasley tapping his shoulder.

"With pleasure." He replied in a tone that was clearly contradictory.

Draco walked off towards the edge of the room. As Hermione clasped hands with Bill, she watched Draco walk towards professor Snape and felt a jolt of panic. "You seem distracted Hermione, are you ok?" Bill queried.

"I'm a little dizzy from the last dance. Why are you not dancing with Fleur?" She diverted him skilfully away from questions pertaining herself.

"She's with child, and unfortunately she feels a little unwell." he replied.

Hermione smiled at the very old fashioned expression coming from such a young and relatively trendy wizard. "That's wonderful Bill congratulations, I'm sorry she's suffering tonight though."

Bill nodded dismissively "As nice as it is to be dancing with a heroine, I have ulterior motives."

"I figured as much, you've trod on my toe twice." Hermione giggled.

Bill scowled briefly only to adjust his features very quickly. He smiled down at Hermione, "Your not the best dancer either, admittedly Malfoy Jnr displayed you most fetchingly. What are you doing with the little worm? he's a traitor." His voice flipped from teasing to chastising effortlessly.

"Did you mean traitor or did you mean Death Eater? Yes he's a traitor, but only to the Death Eaters he's changed he's like a different person."

The young girl defended her new friend confused by Bills attitude.

"I meant Death Eater, he tried to kill you kids many times over! How do you forgive that? People don't change, they just get better at hiding who they really are."

"I don't agree... I think we need to talk about something else before we fall out."

Bill sighed " Yes maybe so, I need to talk about a security matter. You know that Dumbledore's portrait requested extra security at his tomb ?"

Hermione nodded, happy to change the topic. "I understand that both yourself and professor Snape added extra curses." He continued.

"I did, but I was unaware that the professor had done so. Why is this of interested to you Bill? "

"It's of interest because he has also asked me to add an extra security measure. I will be needing your assistance to place it. Why do you think he's so paranoid?" At this point he spun Hermione round inexpertly, causing his young partner to stumble against him slightly.

"Sorry" he laughed

"No worries, there is something going on, and the ministry have been kept in the dark, Ive been attacked by Death Eaters this year."

"No... That's dreadful why didn't you tell the ministry?"

"I don't trust them? Do you?"

"Yet you trust Draco Malfoy? Your a contradiction in terms ." He huffed.

"Do you trust the ministry?" She asked searchingly.

He hesitated "No ... I think you may be right to keep it away from them.I'm sorry If I'm being a little over bearing. My family owe you such a lot we are all concerned about you. We just want you to be careful, it worries me to see you dressed in green, stunningly I might add, flirting with the enemy."

"Green, I thought you were a Gryffindor like the rest of the Weasley clan?"

"I am...what do you mean?"

"Oh... of course, sorry Bill, did Fleur tell you that my dress is Veela made? You know I'm not dressed in Green, I'm dressed in all colours."

"Yes...yes she did" he said hurriedly "But I assumed you would do it so your date would see Green" he corrected himself.

"Maybe I just wanted to please a lot of people."

"You can't make everyone happy."

"Evidently... I seem to have caused you some upset tonight."

"Again I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come over like that."

"Never mind, the song is ending shall we give our bruised toes a rest and decide when we are upgrading the protection on the tomb.?"

Bill sighed in relief, nodded and led her away from the floor.

In the corner of the room Draco was interrogating a very unyielding Professor.

"Did you see my mother?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And where the hell is she? What's she doing? Does she know she's driving my father insane with worry? Are you sure it was her?" Draco reeled of his questions like a machine gun.

"She didn't inform me of her whereabouts, intentions or feelings and I am never wrong, you impertinent young whelp."

"Please... Your my Godfather you're supposed to give a semblance of a crap about me."

"Language Mr Malfoy."

"Do you even know how old I am? I can curse a lot better than that!"

"I'm sure you talent knows no bounds in that direction, but if your attitude offends me, I think that as your Godfather it is my privilege to correct you, is it not?"

"Merlin! your so officious, do you ever take time off to remove the giant wand from your ass?"

Immediately a wand jabbed against Draco's jaw, the movement so fast Draco didn't see it coming. Snape whispered in His ear menacingly, "Occasionally I find time too."

Draco winced "Please." He said again in a lowered tone.

Snape removed the wand. "Outside!" He strode away to exit the great hall.

Draco rubbed his neck and hurriedly followed him. Noting as he did so the mask Snape held tightly in his left hand.

Outside in the corridor Snape told Draco all about the encounter with Narcissa.

"No you must be wrong, I'd know, I would! she's my mother, how could I not know if she was a kitsune?"

Snape looked at the boy who was dangerously close to tears and placed what he hoped was a fatherly hand on Draco's shoulder.

"I agree with you, Something is wrong, something doesn't feel right. But I can only tell you what I saw, don't give up on your mother, she risked her life, and my life I might add, to save your soul from the dark lord. I too find it hard to believe she would abandon you now. This is all I have at the moment I will find the truth for you, I promise. I need you to make me a promise too."

"What?" Draco asked in surprise.

"Something is going to happen something big, the war is not over, and it's going to be even harder to know who to trust, I want to trust you Draco, but you have let me down before, also you have never trusted me. Do you now?"

"Yes sir."

"Promise me you will do all you can to protect Potter,Weasley and Hermione."

"Hermione sir?" Draco raised his eyebrows slightly.

"Yes... that's what I said, Granger."

Draco decided not contradict him. "Why will they need it?"

"They just will. Help Protect them and I will assist you with your own concerns."

"Do you want me to make an unbreakable?" Draco asked.

Snape regarded the young man for a moment. "I think not, I will trust you."

"Thank you sir."

Snape took two coins from his pocket. If you need assistance just ask the coin to contact me and you can use it as a port key to my location, this will also work if I call you, the coin will grow hot."

Draco pocketed the coin with a nod of thanks.

Snape turned to re-enter the Great Hall.

"Sir?"

Snape paused and turned enquiringly.

"May I have my dates mask back?"

"Your date?" Snape's face clouded over for a second."You mean Grangers...yes...here, take it, tell her to be more careful with her possessions." He hurriedly pushed the mask into Draco's out stretched hand.

"I certainly will sir." Draco replied with a glint in his eye, The professor found it most disconcerting.

Back in the hall Hermione had concluded her talk with Bill and had arranged to meet him at the tomb before they left for the evening.

Harry then claimed a dance from her. Apparently he was escaping Cho whilst Ginny was dancing with Neville. "Something is wrong with that girl tonight, she seems to have two fixations and neither of them are Ron. Look at him over there with Percy, how come he always looks like a wet towel at every party?"

Hermione looked over with Concern, at the clearly miserable Ron . " Poor Ron! I wonder if Percy is boring him with ministry reports again. The problem is; he always asks the wrong person to partner him. I am a little surprised though, I thought they were getting serious. What's Cho playing at? She's dancing with Bill now, look!" She gestured with her head for Harry to see for himself.

"Maybe they had a tiff, but she keeps asking me about you and Draco, she doesn't like it apparently."He commented.

"Well of all the cheek! what's it got to do with her anyway?"

"I don't know, but she keeps flirting with me too! Asking if she can try my cloak on, telling me she loves my outfit, Ginny's going to kill her."

"Very odd, oh...look Ron's cutting in. Good for him, showing some gumption. She seems pleased. That's cheered him up. Maybe we are reading to much into it."

"Maybe, look...Snape and Malfoy have been out together, it's like old times...plotting, maybe we should flip my cloak around and follow them under it."

Hermione smacked his shoulder. "Don't be paranoid, concentrate on the dance, I love this song"

Harry grinned and held onto his friend tighter and swayed to the refrains of the music, reminded of a time past, when in a moment of sadness they danced alone in their tent.

It wasn't long before Draco had reclaimed his partner to ply her with champagne at a small table for two.

"Ok ...I want a dance with that Greengrass girl, sort it for me."

"What's in it for me?"

"I think I can get you a dance with a snarky potions master."

"No! forget it, horrendous ...why would I want that."

"Alright what do you want?"

"Nothing."

"Great get me a dance."

Hermione looked over to where Astoria was dancing and groaned.

"I'm going to have to sacrifice my self, she's dancing with McCormack! Erghh, come on then." She dragged Draco to the dance floor and they spun around delicately, she stopped dancing right by Astoria, who seemed a little unhappy with her own dance partner. Hermione tapped McCormack on the arm, "Hello, how wonderful to see you again. McCormack looked up in surprise and barely repressed delight. "I'm sorry may I cut in?" Hermione asked Astoria with an apologetic smile.

"Oh ...yes that's fine." She said uncertainly as McCormack swept off with Hermione.

"Well that was rude, we have both been abandoned, may I have this dance?" Draco asked the young girl.

" I confess to be relieved, I wasn't enjoying the dance, does Miss Granger really want to dance with him?"

Draco pulled her towards him in a waltz position, smiled and said; "I will be very surprised if she doesn't sprain her ankle in the next five seconds."

Sure enough Hermione could be seen hobbling off to the side with McCormack and Ron holding each arm.

"See. " laughed Draco.

"She's very pretty, is she your girlfriend?"

"No, we are just friends, although it may appear more, I'm just trying to help her trap a wizard through jealousy."

"Oh, I hope it works for her." She replied sincerely.

"you wouldn't if you knew which wizard." he replied grimly.

Hermione managed to get rid of McCormack with Ron's assistance and was left talking to Cho.

"Ron says you have an unusual necklace from the orient. Are you wearing it?"

Hermione was surprised that Ron would mention it to Cho, but she pulled at the necklace chain to show her anyway. The chain was just visible on her neck but the pearl like stone was hidden, nestled in her chest.

When the pearl appeared above her dress it immediately emitted a glow. "Wow it's never done that before."

Hermione said in awe as she reached behind her neck to remove it.

"No don't take it off!" Cho's voice was urgent and insistent.

"Why ever not?"

"It's clearly a protection stone meant to be worn all the time, it looks like one I've read about recently, They glow as warnings... If its the same pearl."

"I don't know why I need protection now, but I will leave it on." Hermione slipped it back down the dress leaving the chain visible.

Cho smiled in relief and continued,

"Good, so ... Draco, is it serious?"

"Harry said you asked him that, no it's nothing we are friends that's all."

After Ron returned to claim Cho, and with Draco very much engaged, she thought maybe her dancing was at an end for the evening. To her surprise she had endless offers of partners, she had to avoid McCormack's accusing glare more than once on the dance floor. She danced with Fred, Charlie, Neville and Mr Weasley. She went on to dance with professors Slughorn and Flitwick, the latter not without some difficulty. The new minister for magic also gave her a twirl.

Soon she was once again back with Draco. "So how did it go?" She asked

"Very well, she's a little young but I will keep in touch I think." He replied smugly.

"No kissing tonight then?" Hermione teased.

"Are you offering?"

"A few more drinks, I might think about it." She laughed.

Draco abandoned her instantly, to appear suddenly ,with drinks in hand.

"Your incorrigible." She took the drink from him.

"Stop encouraging me then." He smiled taking a sip of his wine.

"He's still watching you, he's been prowling the edges of the dance floor for the past hour. Why don't you kiss me, see if I'm right."

"Stop teasing me. I'm mildly interested in him ok, I can't think why. He is defiantly not watching me, he views me as a child an annoying one at that."

"He did, but your all grown up, and thats never been more evident as it is tonight, I think you annoy him in very different ways now, I don't think he's even aware of it himself."

"Because there is nothing to be aware of!"

"Prove it let me kiss you."

"Fine, I can think of England!"

"You cheeky witch!" At this Draco took the glass from Hermione's hand and placed it on the table. He reached forward and laid his hand on the small of her back and drew her towards him before she had time to react. He inclined his head and placed his smooth mouth on her's, capturing her upper lip gently between his.

Hermione drew back pushing Draco firmly away.

The sound of breaking glass made her look up over his shoulder to see Severus Snape gazing at her with a dazed expression across his face it was just a fleeting moment, as he immediately looked away and began repairing the glass he had broken.

"Was that the sound of my Godfather dropping his wine goblet in shock that his Gryffindor princess just kissed his Godson?" Asked Draco innocently.

"You kissed me! It was a coincidence he dropped the glass. Lots of people saw you, look at Ron and Harry, they seem ready to throw glasses." Hermione replied indignantly.

"What ever! I'm off for some air, you joining me?"

"If that's I'm off to pollute some air with a disgusting little death stick your on your own."

"Fair enough, see you in five."

Draco strode off to get his nicotine fix while Hermione avoided the looks of her friends.

At the same time Bill and Fleur also left the hall together.

"Did she agree?" Asked Fleur, as soon as they were outside in the frosty night.

"Child's play she's as gullible as we thought, you go and update Rabastan, I will make your excuses, don't be long, use the floo in the Mudblood's rooms."

Bill went back to the entrance hall, as did Fleur but she made for the stairs with manly strides.

Neither of them saw Draco outside in the shadows.

Professor Snape placed his repaired glass on one of the small tables and debated ordering a fire whiskey, the militant gaze of Mcgonigall changed his mind. Sighing he decided to get some fresh air, look for Draco and curse him.

'Maybe just the fresh air would be wise' he thought.

Walking towards the door he came face to face with Bill Weasley re-entering the room.

"You've got some nerve Severus." Bill snarled, never had he looked more wolf like.

"I beg your pardon." Snape responded , he was puzzled by Bill's vehemence, they had previously got along fairly well.

As they eyed each other up, in the manor of two people squaring for a fight, George wandered over. "Hey Bill, where's Fleur gone?"

"She's feeling a bit rough mate, she's gone to the ladies." He answered not taking his eyes away from Snape's. "Do you see my brothers ear? Have you looked at the portrait of the man you killed? How can you live with yourself? Your a coward and a traitor. Everybody here is wondering why you have shown your filthy face at a heroes ball."

George tried to Interceded, clearly he was confused by his brothers attitude."Thats not true sir, no one is thinking that... Bill! ...What's wrong with you, you of all people know it was all necessary, and by Dumbledore's design, leave the professor alone."

Before the professor could retaliate of his own accord Hermione appeared by his side. "Is Fleur sick Bill? I'm sorry, you probably need to go early, let me know when your ready for me help you with our commission."

"I'm just talking to Severus at the moment, I will find you before I leave." His voice showed his irritation, Bill's eyes remained focused, full of hatred of the man before him.

Hermione muttered an incantation changing the pop music playing on the juke box to something else entirely.

"I'm so sorry it's most rude of me to interrupt, but I have danced with all the professors now with one exception, I would hate anyone to think I missed him out for any horrid reason, so as the music playing is clearly designed for professor Snape, I thought I would just ask; will you dance professor?" She gushed happily, as if oblivious to the fracas Bill was trying to create.

Severus Snape hesitated with his inner struggle, he was fighting a desire of wanting to hit Bill, curse Bill maybe run away to his rooms, or to simply take Hermione's outstretched hand.

"Yes, Dance professor, I will talk to my brother, thank you for not creating a scene, I don't know what's bitten him. George interjected hopefully.

"I do, his name's Greyback." Snape spat.

Hermione grabbed his sleeve and pulled him forward "leave it." She hissed.

George likewise pulled BIll away muttering at him angrily.

Once Hermione had dragged Snape toward the Dance floor.,He spoke;

"I'm not dancing, I can't dance, although I appreciate the diversion,the headmistress would have disliked a scene." Snape made to shake her hand off his sleeve.

"You will dance, I have it on good authority that you can. If you don't dance with me, I will make a scene." Hermione held out her hand in the required position."Come on sir, The music of the night! it's your perfect song, this is the first time all night I've had to beg someone to dance with me."

Slowly as if beaten Snape caught her hand in his. Although three more dancers could have stood In between them. "I'm not surprised you've never had to beg for a partner, I am intrigued by your preference for Draco Malfoy."

"Was there a compliment hidden in that sentance? Are you really suprised? Draco's my plus one, it would be rude not too spend most of my time with the one I invited."

"Certainly rude not to exchange saliva with him." Snape's voice held more than a trace of bitterness.

"Nice words, How romantic you make a kiss sound. It was a very chaste kiss and I pushed him off, as well you know, you were watching. Why were you watching Sir?"Hermione challenged him.

He did not reply. To Hermione's surprise He reached for her and pulled her close, he was surprisingly rhythmic, his movements were in time with the second verse of the song. She felt like her body had simply melted into connection with his, it was perfect, electric. She took a deep breath as she settled her right cheek against his, she smelt the familiar smell of parchment a lingering fragrance of spice, sandalwood maybe. The fingers of her right hand rested against the back of his neck. They breathed out together and in together, There was a moment of weightless anticipation and then they stepped forward into the music.

Close your eyes -

Start a journey through a strange new world

Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before

Close your eyes -

And let music set you free.

Only then can you belong to me

Floating, falling, Sweet Intoxication

Touch me, trust me, savor each Sensation

Let the dream begin, Let your darker side give in

To the Power of the music that I write,

The Power of the Music of the Night!

Hermione did indeed close her eyes, on the brief occasions she opened them she could only see the phantom, unreal, surreal. This was the first dance she had had where not a word was spoken, she felt his fingers graze her back, he was an incredible dancer, it made her feel the need for physical closeness, the joy of moving together in rhythm, the ebb and flow of command and surrender.

But all too soon the song was finished and she was being led back to the side. "Thank you for your timely intervention Miss Granger."

Then he gave a curt little bow and left for the opposite side of the room.

Unfortunately The head mistress was also on the other side of the hall.

"I saw that Severus."

"Saw What?."

"Your dance."

"What of it? She's danced with every wizard here."

"Not like that she hasn't "

"like what?"

"Oh come on Severus, have you never heard the Phrase; The vertical expression of a horizontal desire, that's what I saw in her face."

Snape scoffed "I think not."

"I saw it on your face too, be careful Severus."

Snape was about to deny this and criticise the headmistress for her crass comment deeming it unworthy of her...

It was then that he felt the coin in his pocket grow hot.

"Excuse me Minerva" he said and hurried out of the great hall.

Draco had followed Fleur all the way to the rooms Harry and Hermione shared. He watched her enter, then he waited a few minutes, ear pressed against the door till he heard Fleur say "Twelve Grimmauld Place." He waited a few more moments to make sure she had left for Potter's safe house. Then he entered the study.

Did he dare follow, this was clearly the danger his Godfather was concerned about. Checking around the study he found some of Harry's robes.

He took Harry's clothes and decided to change into them, his own Scaramouch outfit being Heavy and cumbersome for stealth to be a viable option. Harry's clothes fitted him fairly well, they were built on the same skinny lines, but Draco was a good three inches taller; so his cuffs and trouser legs were a little short.

He piled his own clothes into a corner placing his mask on top.

After accomplishing this act, he used a Disillusionment charm on himself giving his body a see through quality, not exactly invisible but close to it.

He placed a silencing charm on his feet took a handful of floo powder and stepped soundlessly into the fire.

"Twelve Grimmuald Place" moments later he was in the kitchen fire place praying that nobody was there,and that nobody had heard his arrival.

Fortune favours the brave, and to Draco's relief the kitchen was empty.

He walked out of the grate and towards the door.

Cautiously he opened the door to the corridor. Remembering the matriarchal portrait he quietly slipped into the empty hallway. Upstairs he could her the muted voices of various people. Creeping up the stairs and hovering by the door to one of the rooms made the voices clearer, Fleur had obviously gone in that particular room.

"The Mudblood is leading us to the tomb, she will open it. As yet we are still unaware of the protection Severus has placed on it." Fleur's voice minus the accent, had a sharp clipped edge to it.

"See that you find out Antonin, failure is not an option" The responding voice was high pitched and maniacal.

A whimper could be heard from the Corner of the room, followed by the sound of some kind of stunning curse."Shut up!"The recognisable growl of Rodulphus reached Draco's ears. He shuddered, he had always hated Rodulphus not as much as Aunty Bella but it was a close call.

Draco realised what a vulnerable position he had placed himself in, he was a traitor and these men would make him pay If they got hold of him.

Still he forced himself to peep through the keyhole, despite the dim light he saw to his shock and horror the bodies of what appeared to be Fleur and Bill slumped in the Corner. He gasped and shrank back to the opposite wall.

Gently he made his way to what appeared to be an empty spare room he sat on the bed and fumbled in his pocket for the coin. "Severus Snape" he whispered holding the coin tightly.


	28. Who are you?

**_Thank you so much, littlegreeneyes for your help and encouragement. I will defo work on my to and too! Thank you all who have read this far. And thanks to all who left encouraging reveiws._**

Severus Snape made his way out of the corridor, and took out the coin that was now, almost to hot to handle. "Draco Malfoy!" The pull came as if a hook had attached itself to his navel, jerking him into motion, pulling him from his very core. Within mere moments he was in a room, it was dark, dusty, and supprisingly familiar to him.

Memories of the last time he was in this particular room flooded his mind, they were not happy memories. The remembrance made him wince. He saw himself kneeling in Sirius's old bedroom.

...Tears were dripping from the end of his hooked nose as he read the old letter from Lily, he took the page bearing Lily's signature, and her love, and tucked it inside his robes. Then he ripped in two the photograph he was also holding, so he kept the part from which lily had laughed, throwing the portion showing James and Harry back onto the floor, under the chest of draws...

Snape stood still at the threshold as the past images hit him like physical pain. He struggled with his emotions for just a few seconds before mastering his aborhance of the room, almost immediately his face became impassive, as he turned his attention to Draco.

The young wizard was nervously perched on the edge of the big four poster bed. He hadn't noticed his Godfathers slight falter on entering the room, and as Snape recovered his composure so quickly, Draco saw nothing amiss in his demeanour. Draco placed his finger on his lips gesturing to Snape, telling him to remain quiet.

"Muffliato." Snape whispered. "Well I didn't expect you to summon me this quickly, I hope this is good Draco."

The young man nodded and in a lowered tremulous voice, conveyed what he had heard to his Godfather.

Draco could see that this news wasn't a shock to the Profesor. It was quite apparent that Snape had been waiting for something like this to happen.

"I knew there was something wrong with William Weasley, and his vain little wife. She is part veela, wizards usually clamour to follow her wake, her powers of attraction weren't working tonight, even I noticed."

"I should think not, she's a man, an ugly old man at that." shuddered Draco In distaste.

"Quite." Snape made his monosyllabic reply distractedly, he was thinking of a course of action.

"This is awkward Draco, we can't just blunder in and duel them, we don't have the fact's, we don't know what powers they have, how can we decide how to fight what we don't understand?" Snape rubbed his temple in agitation. "I wish Minerva had taken this damn mask off.

At a time when it's important to trust and recognise fellow wizards, everyone's put masks on to hide there bloody identities. I need to hear their plans...wait here."

Snape cast his concealing charms and left the bedroom, making his way to the room Draco had indicated.

"Permittas Audire!" After this non verbal incantation, the low voice's in the room could be heard more clearly in his mind.

" ...get back to Macnair, Have a go at getting the cloak while you're at it, Narcissa's charms appear to be failing her. I think it's time to for Rodulphus to play his part too, take him with you. Hide in the grounds brother, near the lake. Use your dark mark's to contact each other when it's time..."  
Here the voice of Rabastan broke off. Snape was poised to flee, but froze when he heard a high pitch wail.

"Brother, what is it?" the very recognisable voice of Rodulphus was identified instantly by Snape. There was a silence.

"Its nothing ... just momentary pain." Rabastan's voice sounded misplaced to Snape, not the Rabastan he knew, it had over tones of a past horror.

"It didn't sound like 're looking paler, your eyes are bloodshot, sit down brother, rest."

"Rest! We are on the eve of new birth, for the greater good I have to feel pain. Just get out, follow my orders, these miserable specimens can be left for a few minutes..." He broke off again shallow breaths could be heard. "I've other business to attend to, summon me when you need my presence, leave them here; I will be back to watch the not so happy couple momentarily... Did you not hear me? Get out, get on with it!" The high pitched voice painfully penetrated Professor Snape's brain. He acted immediately, returning back to the room he'd left Draco in, just before all three Death Eaters exited the chamber he'd been spying on.

"Draco, I've got to get back to Hogwarts... "

Draco jumped in surprise, he hadn't heard the professor enter. He looked over to where the voice came from, He could just about see his Godfather, blending into the wall, his disillusionment Charm still working.

Snape spoke in a low tone, "I think The Dark Lord has some how returned, It's possible he's possessed Rabastan, although I can't be sure.""No ...it's not possible, he can't get back, Potter saw to that. Rabastan must be pretending, maybe to incite fear." Even though the young wizard was whispering, he was unable to hide the note of panic in his words.

"If anything he's hiding it from the other Death Eaters. It's like he's not fully possessed, if I'm correct, its frightening him, possibly killing him... The Dark Lord has a reputation for murdering those who serve him. We haven't time for debate... This is your moment Draco, your going to have to get the Weasley's out, Try to get them to St. Mungo's. I don't know how long you have before Rabastan returns, or where he's gone, so be on your guard. Charms may be placed on Bill and Fleur fixing them here, you will have to break them. I will send Kreacher, he may be able to help, house elves follow a different magical law, that may prove useful. I've got to get back to Hermione and warn her...Warn them, help them all."

There it was again, the accidental slip of a first name, this time Draco was too panicked to notice.

Snape Studied his Godson's frightened face. "I trust you Draco."

Draco didn't answer, not that it mattered, his Godfather didn't wait for one.

Snape made his way to the kitchen, the fire still blazed as though recently used. He decided to partially enter the rooms in order to check that the coast was clear. His face appeared in the burning embers of the fire in the Hogwarts study room, from the centre of the fire's coal glowed, crackled, spitting out shadow and light, highlighting Snape's face, elongating his already prominent nose. The image slowly turned checking that the study was indeed empty. He heard the door opposite close, he waited a few more moments to be sure that they did not mean to return. Then he fully used the transport system. Alighting from the fire place he took stock of his surroundings, straightened his robes, and focused on his urgent problem, who to find first?

"Kreacher!"he called. Kreacher, to his credit, arrived very quickly for such an aged elf. He listened as Snape briefed him about the events that evening, Snape was making sure he didn't command Kreacher as promised, he merely requested his wizened little elf agreed to assist in both tasks set, although at the professors second request he began to tremble and shake. Snape had to spend a few minutes calming Kreacher down and assuring the elderly elf of his value to them. Once Kreacher had agreed Snape sent him to Draco, hoping he could cope with the tasks.

As Snape prepared to leave the study, he noticed the little book of poetry on the table. The pages were open displaying Hermione's favourite poem as if recently read. For a moment Snape felt the joy of knowing his gift was appreciated. He ran his fingers across the page, he was so deep in contemplation that it was very disconcerting to find Narcissa's wand suddenly pushed against his lips. Her body flush against his back.

Narcissa leaned over him, her mouth close to his ear. "Shush Severus, I'm on your side." she breathed.

Snape pushed her wand away from his face firmly, his features fixed and expressionless his mask adding to the stillness of his body.

For a few seconds he was quiet in his appraisal of the witch before him.  
When he spoke his words they were thick with irony.

"Really Madame? You convince me of this by creeping up on me and thrusting your wand in my face? Or maybe it was when you relieved me of the Sekhen, that you sort to convince me of your trustworthiness. let's not mention the abandonment of your family...or the cavorting with Death Eaters. If I'm totally honest it's the little furry problem you appear to have, that makes me question who's side you are on. So ... no, you are not on my side. I don't even think you have a side, or a loyalty."

Narcissa smiled up at him her piercing blue eyes seeking his own dark ones.

"Oh you're wrong, I have a side, and I most definitely have a loyalty. You will find our loyalties are not dissimilar, I've seen yours. I want the Death Eaters destroyed. I want Voldermort dead! He must never have the opportunity to return again as man or ghost."

Snape twitched slightly at the use of his old masters name.  
"And yet the Dark lord seems reluctant to rest in peace. Why is it Narcissa, that you gave the Death Eaters the Sekhen?"

"I'm impressed Severus, you know the true name of the Resurrection stone. Keep it to yourself, the Death Eaters are unconcerned with truth and truth can be found in a name. With out knowledge of the name you cannot master it, how ever much you desire it."

Snape gave her a sharp look.  
"Do you desire it? "

"Of course, as did you." she retorted.

"And yet you lost it?" He sneered.

"Again; as did you, but then you could never hang on to what you desired could you Severus?"

Snape ignored the barb and continued to question her, in the hope of understanding her motives and the threat she presented.  
"Do you think you can master it?"

"I have knowledge, I understand it, so...yes, I do."

"Do you have wisdom? Knowledge without it is worthless."

She held her head aloof with pride and determination.  
"I'm said to be the wisest creature alive." She announced.

"A hollow boast when all I've seen is outstanding stupidity. You've already lost the stone, Why are you using the Death Eaters for your own ends?"

"Your a clever man, you know what I am. As a Kitsune I've deduced the future, but given the power I can change it. The Sekhen gives absolute power."

"Have you heard yourself? Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Is that ringing any bells? When has it ever been wise to use evil for good? In the history of humankind it has never been done successfully. Evil is infectious, it spreads, corrupts and taints all it contacts. Evil is the rotten apple that rots the rest in the barrel. No matter what you are trying to achieve, if you use the Death Eaters you will be like them."

"You used them, you worked their evil towards good... Such good Severus. You're an anti-hero, but a hero nevertheless. How different are you to me?"

Snape plucked the edges of his robes into a firm hold, he grasped it, unknowingly folding his arms at the same time, trapping his cloak more tightly around him in a defensive pose.  
"Hardly, the Dark Lord seems bent on a sequel, and I was already rotten, he could not corrupt what was already defective. I'm tainted, marked and scarred and should be dead, only death will purge my sins." The bitter words escaped his mouth in an effort to push Narcissa away from the course of action she had clearly decided on.

"You underestimate your value. You have been rescued from death to many times for it to be coincidence, you have a destiny; I think it's the same as mine. And Severus... you know I'm not good, I certainly never claimed to be. I'm aware of corruption and vice and I can use it. Even so I mean you no harm, I can help." Her cool sharp eyes locked on Snapes' dark dead ones, their darkness framed by the phantom mask.

A flash of life shot through his dark eyes making them burn with fury. Lurching forward he grabbed her shoulders, pushing her towards the wall, while fighting the urge to shake her. "Your not answering any of my questions, you're worse than The Minister of Magic. Answer me now... Why have you abandoned your family?"

She didn't even flinch, In fact she further decreased the distance between them so her nose almost touched his chin. Narcissa was very aware that it was his comfort zone being breached, despite his gesture of intimidation.

He let go of her shoulders, uncomfortable with their proximity.

Narcissa was not going to let him back away, she reached out, grabbing at his robes, making him stumble in to her.  
"Everything I do... I do for them. Every breath I breathe, I breathe for them. And for a long time it has hurt to breathe, I'm tired of watching my children die."

Snape pushed her back roughly.  
"What Children? Have you mothered illegitimate brats? To my knowledge you have one son. Draco has been searching for you... He is alive... For now. He worries about you constantly, he is a most devoted son, and here you are, not giving any thought to him. At this moment your son is helping to save the lives of Bill and Fleur Weasley, at great risk to his own life, I might add. Would you like me to pass on your regards if he survives?" Sarcasm once again missed its mark as Narsissa refused to be affected by it.

"I'm glad he's helping, Draco will be fine. I tried my best to help the Weasley's too, I protected the witch and her unborn child from death, I couldn't prevent the pain."

"Merlin, you are frustrating! I haven't time for this, bloody well answer my questions before I curse you to hell."

"Do you know how old I am Severus?"

"Answer them! Not ask more damn it! ... I have no idea how old you are, I know a woman rarely tells the truth about such matters, according to Minerva she is currently forty-eight. So I don't expect full honesty from you."

"I'm over three thousand six hundred years old."

Snape didn't even blink,  
"You look good. Sure you didn't shave a decade off? You should market your face cream in Diagon Alley." Was his calm retort.

Narcissa smiled in amusement at how unflappable he could appear to be after displaying a temper tantrum only moments before.

"What ...children ...Narcissa?" Snape growled his question out once again, the threat punctuating each word.

"I live most of my life as a Kitsune, it's solitary, reflective, I see things, I understand the enormity of minor events on the cosmos. When this overwhelms me I seek human form, find a mate and have a family. I love my family and I would do anything for them. My first son was to be Pharaoh of Egypt, he was a prince among his peers, let me show you."

Narcissa grabbed Snape's hand, quickly placing his palm against her forehead.  
Instinctively, he tried to remove it, he was unable to, there was a sharp pain and a sudden bolt of light, Snape closed his eyes to shield them from the brightness that was now steadily increasing. He was fast being drawn in to her mind. Then like a film, Severus watched the events of 1513BC, ancient Egypt. When he had seen the whole story, the connection broke, Snape's hand dropped from Narcissa's cool forehead.

"That was you? I read that story. I'm sorry about your son. But why are you ignoring your living child."

"I'm not, you will understand in time. I have had four different family's in different areas of the earth. A Kitsune's child can have many gifts, wizardry is one of them. It is fabled that Morgana herself was the daughter of a Kitsune. But I have never been able to raise a child past twenty -one, I fear Anubis cursed me. I also believe he presented me with a way to break the curse. My children have, all apart from one, died of muggle means, they were victims of time and unforeseen circumstance and they can not be returned to me. But magic can be foreseen. Do you know what Avada Kedarvra means?"

Snape scoffed at the question, but answered all the same.  
"It means 'May You Die'"

"Yes it's a magical request that separates the elements of life. If its possible to rejoin all elements of life, the request can be denied. There is away out of magical death. I am determined to bring back my son, and protect my living child. I need your help to do this. Your already my child's protector, even though you don't fully understand the implications, you are evolved Severus. I trust you with my child's life... as did Lily. You have my blessing on any course of action you take to protect your charge."

He shook his head firmly." I need to get to Miss Granger, her life is in danger as is Potter's. You are slowing me down. I can't trust you. You have answered hardly any of my questions. Like how can you be Narcissa? How could your mother and your sister not know who you really are? Is it possession of Narsissa? Or do you mind bend and create images of your life, for them to believe?"

Narcissa blanched for a moment then smiled gently, speaking gently she replied,  
"Of course, I understand why you don't trust me, I can answer all those questions." Narcissa closed the gap between them once more, She held out her fair hand and wrapped her fingers around Snape's own cold ones. Snape assumed he was about to be shown the answers to his questions, in the same manor as before.  
So he was surprised when the witch gently caressed the back of his hand with her finger tips, tracing little soothing circles on his hand.

His one visible eyebrow raised, he opened his mouth to ask her what she thought she was doing. Then a fog clouded his senses.  
At that moment Severus Snape's mind went blank, all questions doubts and fears disappeared. All he knew was he could trust this woman and he didn't need to ask why."

Narcissa let go, they stood still gazing at each other like two gothic statues.

Narcissa broke the silence. "I think you have a job to do Severus." she said gently.

Snape awoke from his trance. "I may be too late, I've spent to much time here."

"You won't be, just trust me. look out for all your charges. If you get the chance to kill a Death Eater Severus, take it! Don't let your new found conscience stop you. They have to die, otherwise this will never be over. Remember you can return from magical death, I will prove it. So when you kill, use muggle means to do so, from that there is no return."  
With this parting speech Narcissa transfigured into her fox form and vanished, leaving behind a very confused and disorientated professor Snape.

Snape knew he could waste no more time and decided to find Hermione and the Headmistress.

He swept into the great hall in a dramatic billow of robes, to find many of the guests had left. The hard core party goers were the last men standing. Among them he spotted Harry and Ron immediately. Hermione, Antonin and Walden he couldn't see.

He strode over to Harry.  
"Where's your friend?" he snapped.  
" Hello and good evening sir, yes I'm having a very nice time , thank you for asking, which friend are you enquiring about? I have more than one." Harry was obviously slightly emboldened by alcohol to give such a sarcastic reply.

"Don't be facetious, you have two friends and one's missing where is she? "

"Who?"

"Hermione!"

"Ohh ... Well, Miss Granger went out with Bill a few moments ago."

Snape swore very loudly and looked wildly around the room for the headmistress.

"I'm sure her virtue is safe with my brother Sir. I'm not sure how safe she is with you." sneered Ron disaprovingly.

Snape spotted the headmistress and left Harry and Ron immediately, with out comment.

"Minerva take this damn stupid mask off! We have a problem."

The Headmistress spun round and looked at her wild eyed colleague in alarm. "Certainly Severus."

She removed it with a slight flick of her wrist."What ever is the matter?"

"It's not over Minerva, there are Death Eaters in the school, poly-juiced up, Bill and Fleur Weasley are appearances of them, it's Antonin Dolohov and Walden Macnair impersonating them. They are after something in the Hogwarts grounds, I think it's Dumbledore's wand. I need to find Hermione she thinks she's with Bill Weasley."

Back at Grimmauld Place, Draco felt sick, heroic actions take bravery, he'd never been practised in the art, in fact he felt his talents definitely lay in the cowardice department. The thought that Voldermort was pacing the floors of the house made him literally gag with fear."God ...I'm pathetic, get on with it." He whispered to himself.

Creeping out of the room, he gave a quick glance up and down the corridor, the path seemed clear, eerily so, like a suspense film luring you into a false sense of security.  
Draco didn't feel secure, he felt fear weighing heavy in the pit of his stomach. The quiet was oppressive, the dim light gloomy. Draco decided he needed to know his enemy, somewhere Rabastan was lurking, he was going to find out where. He listened at all the doors hearing nothing, heightening his fear, he kept flinching and glancing behind him at various imagined movements. He got closer to the stairs, then he heard it, a moaning wretched sound.

"Please, please my lord, how can I fight for you when I'm made to feel so weak?" Draco heard the gagging retching sound of sickness. He realised he was outside the bathroom.  
The moaning started once more. "My lord..." gasping heaving breaths started again, followed by the sound of vomiting. " My lord ... I'm ... I'm retching blood... What are you doing to me? Draco could hear scuffling sounds, followed by thuds, bangs and choking noises.

Draco felt like he had been petrified, horrified by the noise of what surely sounded like two people fighting.  
The sounds of sickness paused for a moment. If Draco could have seen through the door then he would have known that the high pitched voice of Voldermort forced its way through Rabastan's mouth. However he heard the words, and recognised the voice.

"My poor Rabastan, how you struggle, another half hour and I'm sure you will feel relief, everlasting relief"

Draco shuddered, his Godfather was right. Somehow this filled him with determination, he knew it needed to end, he realised that he had a small window of opportunity, what ever was happening in that bathroom did not sound like concluding in the next ten minutes.

In fact at that moment, Rabastan was in the throws of seizures. He emitted a loud scream caused by the contractions to his vocal chords. Rabastan's body muscles alternatively stiffened and relaxed with violent contractions. His head banged repeatedly against the tiled floor, occasionally thrashing to the side, crashing his temple against the porcelain toilet pedestal. Guttural gagging noises emanated from his foaming mouth, his skin was pallid, Sickly, sweat stained. With each sickening crack of his head, blood splattered out of his mouth and nose like a fountain, hitting all the nearby surfaces. The trembling young wizard outside the door, hearing the screams and the thumping, crashing noises, could only imagine what was going on. He forced himself into action, quietly returning to the bedroom Bill and Fleur lay in, confident he had a few minutes grace.

He reached for the handle breathing out a long calming breath. They were still there huddled together, in the cold. Their naked bodies were partially hidden by limbs and hair, but what could be seen of them looked frozen and bruised.  
Draco glanced around the room and caught sight of a pile of wizards robes. Picking them up he grimaced in distaste at there dirty and ragged condition.  
He covered fleur with one cloak and Bill with another. Transfiguring them into more suitable clothing.

He tentatively reached forward to feel Fleur's pulse. He let out an exclamation of relief at the steady beat that met his finger tips.  
"Finite Incantatem!" he hissed. The ropes and bindings left her body, he turned to the wizard beside her muttering the same incantation.

He pointed his wand at Bill. "Enervate." Bill groaned and his eyes peeled open, achingly slowly.

"W...what? W..here?" he stumbled in groggy bewilderment.

"Shhh! I'm here to help, I haven't woken your wife I fear she is better off stunned for now."

Bill jolted to move towards his wife and screwed up his face in agony as his limbs failed him."Circ ... u ... lation." he panted painfully.

Draco awkwardly grabbed Bill's leg and began rubbing it, massaging the blood flow.

Bill looked at his wife, sorrowfully, as Draco worked on his arms. "Did you cover her?" he asked. His voice becoming steadier and clearer.

"Yes, only loosely, we haven't much time you need to dress her better and yourself, I thought she would rather you did it." Draco replied while hurriedly helping Bill to stand.

"Thank you, That was... considerate." Bill said shakily, while allowing Draco to pull him too his feet.

"That's the best I can do, you should be able to stand on your own now."  
He experimentally let go of Bills arm, made sure he was stable and continued;

" We need to get out of here, to St Mungo's you both need medical attention. Rabastan is downstairs he's... he's ... No I haven't time I will explain later, we have ten minutes that I'm confident of. Have you been cursed so you can't leave ? Professor Snape thought they may have made you removal difficult."

"Severus was here? Why isn't he helping us?"

"He is helping someone else, he sent me to you. Quickly what have they done?"

"Severus credits them with too much intelligence they're thick as s***"

"CRACK!"

The sound reverberated around the room, Bill and Draco jumped dramatically, Bill with a groan, at the pull to his aching muscles, Draco with an offensive expletive.

"Kreacher!" Draco hissed "Bloody hell, you scared me, I hope no one heard."

"Master Snape asked me to assist." Kreacher answered solemnly.

"Good, erm...Thank you, quickly then, how can we get out of the house without using the floo or front door? Can we disparate?" he whispered.

"No Master Malfoy, all the rooms have protective spells on them, the only way out is the front door, or fire."

"Damn it!" Draco hissed.

Bill was busy dressing himself and Fleur, he looked up at Draco's exclamation. "We will have to try and sneak out."

"We will get caught, they are proberbly on the way back to the room now." Draco muttered despondently.

"I can take you one by one, elf magic is different to your wand Magic, the spells do not affect me."

" Of course you can, how stupid of me, I saw Dobby do the same thing once. What are you waiting for then? let's go." Draco replied in relief "Fleur first Kreacher, thank you." He added, remembering his manners that were so rarely used talking to house elves.

The elf touched the inanimate witch and vanished with another excruciatingly loud crack.

Bill and Draco winced and listened for sounds of discovery. A few moments later and the sound once again echoed around the room.

The elf reappeared without Fleur.

"Mr Weasley, quick." urged Draco.

The elf grabbed Bill and once again vanished.

At that moment footsteps could be heard on the landing, the door flung open despite Draco's spell to hold it.

"You!" the voice of Voldermort came through the dead body of Rabastan, he made a gruesome corpse puppet. This was fitting as he was being operated by a psychotic puppet master.

Draco raised his wand. "Avada kedava" he shouted, his aim trained straight at the spectre before him.

The curse went straight through Rabastan's body, making no difference to him at all.

"An unforgivable! Ha, The little boy I knew wouldn't do that before, has the Malfoy baby grown up?"

Draco screeched the curse again in panic.

Voldermort's laughter filled the air, "Still very foolish though, if it didn't work the first time, what makes you think it would a second? Clearly ... I'm dead already, as is mine host!"

Draco started firing every curse he could think of, the room was full of bangs, flashing lights and manacle laughter.

Rabastan's body jerked with the force of the spells, essentially nothing changed. Bloodless cuts appeared on the body, but other than that his spell casting was useless."

"There is nothing you can do to me! I'm already DEAD!" Voldermort screached.

Draco briefly wondered why Voldermort hadn't attacked him yet.

"Yes unfortunately, I have limited magic that comes with being dead. I will rectify this very soon. But I have friends who have extensive powers, let's call them shall we, I think I might have to find your mother and tell her what a naughty boy you are."

The drooping arm of Rabastan's corpse raised up as if on a string and slowly stabbed at the dark mark on the opposite forearm.

And then there was an explosive crack, before either Voldermort or Draco could react there was a second one echoing around the room.


	29. Hit me then!

_**Ok action this chapter, hopefully some romance in the next chapter. I'm determind to get this finished now, so all the plot should start to come together, you may need to refresh your memory on older chapters for some of the clues to the ending. Thanks again to everyone following and reviewing. Also thank you to littleblueeyes who has been really helpful and has helped beta this chapter, thanks to everyone that has helped beta this story. A special mention to inspired ideas and shadowssj for the good advice, and for the encouragement!**_

_**Please continue to reveiw. Thanks so Much.**_

Draco found himself sprawling on the floor in professor Snape's office. His arm caught tight in Kreacher's bony grip. He gasped and panted for a few moments, collecting himself together, feeling the adrenaline pumping through his body. Breathlessly he spoke to his rescuer,  
"Err... Well... done Kreacher, I knew you would comeback for me but honestly, I thought the Dark Lord would kill me first."  
"Kreacher was prepared for the possibility of his quick return, please make sure Master Malfoy, that this time he is destroyed for good. Poor Master Regulus...died to help destroy The Dark Lord. You remind Kreacher of him, avenge him please..." The elf's voice was low and raspy, but insistent nevertheless.

"I will do my best Kreacher ." Draco stood up, dusted himself down, then gave a slight bow in respect for the elderly elf's efforts.  
"Did my Godfather give you any further instructions?"  
"Yes Master Malfoy."  
"What are they?"  
Kreacher began to tremble and look around wildly.  
"Kreacher cannot say."  
"You can tell me, Master Snape is my godfather, are you frightened... What has he asked you to do? Can I help?"  
Kreacher grabbed a book from the shelf and began hitting his head with it, punctuating his words.  
"Kreacher...Can...not...say...  
Kreacher ...promise."  
Draco smoothly caught the book from the Elf's hands preventing further self harm.  
"Is my Godfather forcing you to do something against your will?"  
"Kreacher only said yes for master Regulus." he whimpered.  
"Can I help you?" Draco asked gently.  
"No, but Kreacher thanks you, master Snape says that Master Malfoy must look after Master Potter and his friends."  
"Are the Weasley's alright?"  
"Yes, Kreacher thinks so, they are at the wizard hospital."  
"Good, Ok... Well if the only instruction given to me was to protect Harry, Ron and Hermione. I had better find them and get on with doing it." Draco announced resolutely.  
"Kreacher must go too." The trembling elf vanished.

* * *

After telling the headmistress of the coming events Professor Snape left her somewhere between horror, panic and disbelief. She hoped the story was the product of a post traumatic episode. She knew her colleague had been through enough to put a lesser mind in an institution. However Snape's parting request was lucid and forceful, she was to clear Hogwarts of the remaining guests and keep an eye on Potter, as his cloak was apparently an object of the Death Eaters attention.

With out further thought he flew through the grounds in a whirl of Wispy smoke, almost like a small but precise tornado, swirling through the school in the travelling mode preferred by the once dark wizard.

In seconds he was in the dark grounds hidden in the shadows by his habitually black clothing.  
From his hiding place, the professor could clearly see the white marble of the tomb, a beacon to those who meant no harm to the corpse within.  
He could hear voices. He strained to hear them, they were far away just hints of tones and sounds carried on the Autumn breeze. Silently he cast his eavesdropping charm, the one he used in grimmauld place. As the voices became clearer Snape could see the figures to whom the voices belonged to walking towards the tomb.  
It was notable that the larger figure was clearly a few steps behind the other, following her as unobtrusively as possible so the distance between them could be past off as mere etiquette, politeness even, the old adage ladies first.

Hermione hadn't noticed that Bill couldn't see the tomb, she never even questioned him. The witch trusted the Weasley family, even if Bill seemed out of sorts. It was reasonable to presume that post traumatic stress syndrome would have effected many of her acquaintances. In fact she was aware that her own personality had not remained entirely intact, she too had issues. She was aware of a change to most of her friends.  
"What modifications are you going to make Bill?"  
"Nothing major, just a new curse on the remains."  
"Can you tell me about it?"  
"Dumbledore didn't say if I could tell you or not, but maybe for your protection it would be best for me to keep it to myself, but it's up to you, what do you think?"  
"I think you're right, I wasn't thinking of the security aspect."  
Hermione halted her movements by the tomb. Macnair fell in step with her.  
"Alright can you open the tomb and get past the first layer of protection?" Macnair sounded very confident, but in truth he was only guessing that Hermione had stopped walking due to the proximity of the tomb.  
"I didn't think it would need to be opened. I don't have the spell for that. What do I need to say? Didn't you set that spell?"  
"Yes it's, Aperire et revelare mortuis."  
"And why does it have to be me casting the spell?"  
"It needs to be the one who set the next protection."  
"Oh; ok, I wasn't told that was how it worked."  
Hermione pointed her wand at the tomb clearly visible to her and said,  
"Aperire et revelare mortuis." clearly enunciating each word.  
The top of the tomb shifted to reveal the inside, At this Macnair could see part of the content of the tomb, although wierdly not the marble of the outside, a white shroud was in plain view, presumably concealing the corpse. Hermione and Macnair were too wise to attempt removing it.  
"What's the first protection?" Macnair asked.  
"Why do we need to open the tomb further? Is the lid being removed not enough?"  
"I need to see the contents in order to align the curse."  
"Bill...can I not look? That's horrible." Hermione requested shakily.  
"Yes that's fine you don't have to look. In fact it's probably best you don't" he answered with a wry smile.

Professor Snape was watching from a distance still using his eavesdropping charm. He was debating his course of action when another figure began walking towards the pair.  
Hermione noticed the approaching shape too.  
"Is that Fleur coming over?"  
"Yes she must be feeling better."  
Macnair carried on with his facade, beckoning to the disguised Antonin with a smile.  
As the fake Fleur walked towards them, she sent out a sickly smile towards Hermione.  
"Ett iz orrible missing so much of ze party, I thought zis fresh air would elp so I came to find you Bill."  
"How nice dear, you will need to stand back as you mustn't be involved in the protection." Bill's voice was insincere.  
"zat iz fine." Fleur smiled and stepped back.  
Hermione put out a very unsteady hand and touched the tomb.  
The voice of Dumbledore echoed out;

_**"What keeps you warm, is sometimes worn and can be carelessly torn?**_  
_**Staring through it's veil to see all that exists as shadow. **_  
_**Disguising the returning sun's rays in movements of grey. What is lost can now be returned, so what is alive now no-longer yearns.**_  
_**Just as a shadow is cast like darkness, it always needs the light."**_

Snape listened carefully to the riddle horrified by the amount of information it gave away, Hermione will have no problem solving that, and then what? A casket of horrors about to be opened? Like the opening of Pandora's box.

"What's the answer?" Bill snapped at Hermione.  
"I...I don't know." she shook her head, confusion on her face, it's not a normal riddle, I think it's personal, designed for only a few to answer."  
Antonin crept back up close to the pair, only Snape saw his wand outstretched in Fleur's fingers.  
"Well its obviously something you wear, come on ... your supposed to be clever, I knew it was a lie you filthy little Mud blood."  
"Expelliarmus!" shouted Antonin.  
Hermione gasped in horror at the harsh words from her friend and cursed herself in disbelief at the loss of her wand.  
The faces of Fleur and Bill became twisted masks, portraying the evil within.  
Menacingly they grabbed her, jabbing their wands in her neck hard enough to constrict her throat.  
"Bill what are you doing? Your hurting me." she coughed.  
"Answer the effing riddle." he spat his profanity in her face.  
"I can't, I don't know. " she scrunched up her eyes in fright not wanting to see what came next.  
"Lies!" Antonin screeched.

Snape realised he could wait no longer he would have to act regardless of what power they possessed. As he rose to make his assault, two more figures joined the fray. Hand in hand Rodulphus and Narcissa approached the tomb site.  
"Stop struggling with her, what are you animals?" Narcissa released Rodulohus' hand leaving him stood dumbly by her side.  
"Miss Granger dear, please can you get the tomb to repeat the riddle? I'm afraid I didn't quite catch it" Her words were pleasant with no hint of threat.  
Hermione was pushed towards the tomb by her two captors she once again touched it with her outstretched hand. Dumbledore's voice repeated the riddle as before.  
"I think I know the answer to that one. Are you sure you don't my love?"  
Hermione shook her head.  
"Mrs Malfoy, Draco will be so upset, what is this? And your not Bill are you?" silent tears streamed down her face as she tried to remain brave and calm.  
"Thick as the mud that runs through her blood, pretty though."Macnair stuck out Bill's tongue and ran it up the track of her escaped tear.  
A stunning spell hit Macnair straight in the back and he fell twitching on the floor.  
Narcissa looked up sharply to see from where the spell had been cast, she smiled and whispered an incantation freezing Snape in his hiding place. Leaving him fully conscious and unable to act. Then she poked the fallen wizard with her foot, "you're disgusting!"  
Antonin Dolohov fought on his own to restrain the surprisingly strong girl in his arms, finally resorting to an immobility spell that bounced straight off her and hit him. Unfortunately this hadn't helped Hermione, as he was immobilised holding her very tightly, she was now in the grasp of a statue.

"How the hell did that rebound?" groaned Macnair looking at the frozen Antonin in confusion. He slowly rose to his feet, "Who stunned me? Search the grounds."  
There was silence for a second as it seemed like Narcissa was also immobile but slowly she moved again and weakly turned to look at the furious wizard.  
"I stunned you." She lied.  
"It did not come from your direction." he said suspiciously.  
Narcissa grabbed Macnair's hand.  
"Yes it did." she said firmly, stroking his Palm, She pulled away.  
"oh, ok why?" he asked confused.  
"Because I don't have time to watch you drool over the girl. Rape and pillage on your own time."  
He snorted in exasperation. Narcissa stepped closer to Hermione.  
"It's all going to be fine, just answer the riddle." she reached for Hermione's hand, the girl had watched Narcissa's performance moments ago and tried to hide her hands away, but Antonin's unyielding body made this impossible.  
At Narcissa's touch she shuddered then relaxed.  
"Alright sweetheart, what's the answer?"  
"It's a cloak."  
"Yes, good girl it's Harry's cloak isn't it?" she encouraged her gently.  
Hermione nodded dreamily.  
Rodulphus cast a spell to release Antonin who still retained his grip on the girl.  
"Alright answer the riddle to Dumbledore's tomb girlie." he patronised.  
Narcissa stroked her hand again. Hypnotically she raised it and placed her palm on the tombs edge once more.  
"The cloak of invisibility." she whispered.  
Nothing happened.  
"Told you she's useless just kill her."  
Macnair snarled again.  
Narcissa closed her eyes and the ears of the death eaters became filled with a muffled buzzing sound.

"Say Khaibut." urged Narcissa.  
" Khaibut" Hermione whispered. The shroud flew up into the air, Hermione closed her eyes once more. The ears of the death eaters cleared and they shook their heads as if un-clogging water out from their ears.  
"It worked? Why the delay?" Rodulphus asked walking over to the half visible tomb.  
"Yep that's Dumbledore, I knew the old bastard was determined not to rot." he grimaced. "Sissy we've done well, look there's the unbeatable wand."  
Antonin at hearing Rodulphus pronouncement, let go of Hermione distractedly, desperate to grab the wand.

As soon as he let go she fled, running for all her might.  
Rodulphus and Macnair acted immediately, sprinting across the grounds towards her, Macnair flew clumsily in the air easily faster, appearing in front of her and propelling her with force to the ground. She struggled thrashing around, managing to knee him between his legs, causing him to howl in pain, he drew back his hand and smacked her across the face, she yelled out pushing herself forward and bit him hard on the neck.  
"what the...You do realise I'm a wizard... I have a wand you Stupid bitch bite this... Crucio!"  
The pearl hidden at Hermione's chest glowed so brightly that it shone through her dress, Macnair flew through the air once more, crashing to the floor with a long drawn out scream. The scream echoed around the grounds until it was apparent that two people were screaming not one, Narcissa was also on the floor screaming a lot louder, Antonin was trying to restrain her. At the same time the polyjuice wore off and he morphed into his own rancid body. Panic was oozing from his every pore, and at that moment all three death eaters felt their dark marks burn.  
"Hell! He'll have to wait!" Rodulphus screeched. Pointing his wand at Hermione who had started to run again, "incasarate!" he shouted.  
Chains flew out, Hermione's pearl glowed once more. The chains redirected and flew towards Rodulphus pinning him down.  
Narcissa stopped screaming as the Crucio died down but now she was also chained up.  
Hermione continued running.

"Get the wand, take Narcissa back to Rabastan, answer the damn call, it will allow you to join him from the grounds. There is obviously some rebound charm on the mud blood princess, I will catch her by force, and dispose of her. I will meet you at the Hags head."  
Macnair fired a Finite Incantatem, at his comrade and sped off after the retreating Hermione.  
Rodulphus released from his bonds, jumped up and ran back towards Narcissa and Antonin. As he reached them it was clear Narcissa had passed out from the pain. He removed the bonds and swept her into his arms bridal style.  
"Get the wand you blithering idiot, nice work. It will be fun watching my brother berate someone other than me."  
Antonin scowled reached into the tomb and vanished.  
Rodulphus let out a yell, nearly dropping Narcissa and lurched over to the tomb, there was the body of Dumbledore but the wand had gone, and so had Antonin.  
Rodulphus yelled out in frustration, struggled with his burden to allow himself to touch the dark mark, and then he vanished with Narcissa.  
At the same time Antonin disappeared and so did Snape.

* * *

Snape felt himself pulled from his hiding place with all the usual sensations. His body became released from Narcissa's restraints as he left her proximity. He was thrown against a hard rocky surface, it was dark, pitch black. His fall hurt, but he did not make a sound other than the dull thump of his back against the wall. It was cold and quiet, icy drips of water fell from the darkness above, dripping down his neck. As his eyes adjusted to the blackness he focused on an eerie green itself. He was stood in the inside of a cave, an underground lake shimmered infront of him, the strange green glow came from it's centre.

He heard a groan not too faraway.  
With grim determination he stood, mentally focused on the noise and visualised the position of the Death eaters mind, 'legilimans !' he silently locked onto Antonin's location.  
"Expelliarmus!" he shouted unconcerned that his foe now knew he was there. Three wands flew through the darkness to land in his outstretched hand.  
He placed them under his robes and lit his wand "lumos!"  
Antonin let out a furious exclamation, Snape could hear him scrabbling around in the darkness.  
"Severus Snape!" his accusing voice echoed out, full of intense hatred.  
"Yes." Snape's one word answer was unconcerned, dismissive even.

The professor trained his wand in the direction of the sounds and walked forward. There was Antonin Dolohov, his pale, long, twisted face illuminated by Snape's light.  
"Hello Antonin, i like the dress, it brings out the colour of your eyes." Snape sneered.  
"Hello traitor, what brings you to this... delightful place? What brings me here for that matter?"  
"I did, the wand is a port key, Dumbledore arranged for it to be so with Harry Potter. I'm here because a few weeks ago I upped the security, so that if anyone stole the wand they would be brought here, the wand would also send me too. So I could avenge it and replace it."  
"What is here?"  
"Didn't your master tell you? This was his secret play house bless him."  
"Enough! you coward, I notice your wand directed at me!  
Four wands against non is it? how brave you are."  
His greedy eyes locked on Severus challenging him to strike.

"Well, let's make this fairer shall we?" Snape shot a spell in the air causing dim light to remain around them. He placed his wand away in his cloak with the others.  
"Are you letting me go?" Antonin asked in surprise.  
"Now what ever gave you that idea?" Snape stood straight swivelled slightly, twisting his back leg as he stepped forward, distributing his weight, his fist flew out with the full force of his body behind it. Antonin had no idea it was coming. Snape's fist connected with his nose, breaking it neatly. Water streamed from his eyes as he yelled out and tried to block any further assault to his face, leaving his mid section exposed, with lightning speed. Snape retracted his fist and drove in a second punch below the rib cage.

The Death Eater lay in a foetal position his knees to his chest his hands covering his face as blood splurged between his fingers. He groaned loudly coughing and gasping with the pain.  
"That was for Remus Lupin. Do you need a moment?" Snape shook his reddened fist to disperse the pain, wincing slightly as he did so.  
"So... you want to fight like dirty muggles? where the hell did a freak like you learn to fight like that?" Antonin growled and swore as he examined his bloodstained hands. He began to collect himself, he slowly stood up from the floor, wincing as he wiped blood from his nose on to his bare arm.

"Crappy childhood, bastard of a father who liked to use his fists, and a useless witch for a mother. But enough about me, lets talk about you, why you are doing this?"  
"To bring order to the wizard world, and to bring the Dark Lord back of course."  
"You stupid little ... Why, why would you want that? Why would you trust him, he tried to kill me?"  
"I call that good judgement." Antonin was on his feet, hunched over, but warily squaring up to him."

"Why would his rule make things better?" Snape had to know what inspired the loyalty.  
Antonin grinned painfully, showing the blood that soaked his yellowing teeth, and he spat grotesquely at Snape's feet.  
"It won't, I just like the chaos, enjoy the killing, and take the plunder." His words were thickened by the damage to his nasal passage, but it just made his vile words sound worse.  
The professor looked at him with utter disgust, "So it's just cruelty, perversion and greed."  
"Pretty much, why? how do you like it? I think you have some perversion of your own, I watched you dancing with the Mudblood, you wanted her, unthinkable! contaminating our kind with filth."

"Well that's my Conscience appeased, this one's for Hermione."  
With that he sprang forward and kicked the legs from under Antonin, having laid him prone at his feet, he lifted his leg and placed his boot on the mans neck, pushing down on his throat.  
Antonin wildly scrabbled around on the hard rock floor flailing his fists And choking under the pressure.  
Suddenly Snape released the preasure, removing his foot, "Get ... up!"  
Antonin rose once more to his feet, gingerly feeling his neck.  
"Come on, your turn, you hit me now." Snape beckoned him forward.  
"Sod off." Antonin spluttered.  
"No, come on, I won't react, this has been a bit too easy... I want to kill you without a stain on my character."  
"You're covered in stains you dirty half blood."  
"Hit me!"

Antonin stumbled forward planting his fist on Snape's jaw. Snape staggered back slightly, emboldened by his lack of defence he wildly pummelled at him, caring little for aim and landing very few punches.  
Snape's mouth began to bleed he could taste the metallic bitterness drop down the back of his tongue, the sickly smells of copper and rust hazed his mind for a moment. He allowed Antonin a few more hits then he blocked him.  
"My turn I think."

With a swift movement he head butted the panicked wizard, causing yet more blood to spray from his nose, he grabbed him viciously by the throat and began to squeeze.  
Antonin hooked his legs around Snape's causing them to over balance. Sprawling on the damp rock floor they shoved and pushed at each other slowly edging closer to the lake. Snape jumped off Antonin releasing him momentarily, only to flip him over and grab his hair along with the back of his robes pushing him towards the water. He leaned on his back and pushed his face into the water holding it down as Antonin frantically jerked and struggled.  
"I'm going to drown you in three inches of water." he said pushing him further forward as he spoke.

The disturbance in the water caused the Inferi to animate, Snape had forgotten their existence. He yelled out in horror as the grey corpses approached, their spindly arms grasping and groping at his wet robes he let go of Antonin who had stopped moving and moved away from the shore line. The hands pulled Antonin in the water, but as they did so; Antonin's foot flew out in one last defiant kick knocking Snape to the floor once again. Snape's foot splashed into the water as Antonin disappeared. Quick as a flash a slimy hand caught his foot and pulled him in the water too. Another hand grabbed his outstretched arm, furiously pulling him towards the shore and away from the demons within the lake. With his one available hand he retrieved his wand while kicking out at the inferi pulling at his legs, he then shot fire out of his wand, the Inferi retreated with hideous screams. The hand holding his arm jerked him back and he scrabbled out of the water his wet robes flapping around him as he stood breathlessly looking at his helper.

"Hello ... Kreacher, just ...in ...time. You have done very well."  
"Kreacher waited in the dark just like you asked." Kreacher was trembling and glancing around with his big scared eyes.  
"You have been very brave."  
"Can Kreacher and master Snape leave now?"  
At this moment Snape could here screaming in his head, someone was calling his name over and over put his hands to his temple trying to rub out the pain but the shouting was more insistent and more frantic.

"Hermione" he groaned, "Yes Kreacher we need to leave, please apperate us back to Hogwarts... Now!"


	30. The silver Bat

The Headmistress was left in a moment of unfamiliar indecision by Snape's story. As she began to think it was Professor Snape's disturbed mind that had created this delusional fabrication of treachery and domination, her mistake was brought to her attention by Draco Malfoy who ran into the room wild eyed and clearly distraught. "Potter!" he shouted.  
Both Wizards were now unmasked, and clearly wearing 'I'm going to have a hangover' expressions. Harry turned from his slightly inebriated conversation with Ron about the evils of Every Flavour Beans to look at Draco. "Malfoy?What the devil's the matter? Where's Hermione? My god, if you've touched her..."  
"Get over yourself Potter, if I laid a finger on that girl without consent she'd make a eunuch out of me, I've learnt humility maybe you should try a dose."  
"Then why are you running over here in your, stupid sex god outfit... Hang on, your wearing my robes! What the hell Malfoy?"  
"Sex god Potter? Just how slaughtered are you?"  
Harry eyed him suspiciously, "Not that slaughtered so don't try anything!"  
"Merlin's beard you're priceless you are, does Ginny know you think I'm a sex god?"  
"It's you wearing my clothes freak!" Harry's voice began to rise on the defensive side.  
"For a good reason Potter,"  
"Yeah, You're getting off on it"  
"What are you drinking?! What ever it is, sober up. Hermione's in danger. The war is not over and the Death Eaters may be with her." He said quickly, hoping to spur them on.  
"I'm sorry run that by us again ferret." Ron said, deciding to emerge himself in the conversation.  
Draco raised his eyes and wondered how he had made a promise about the two wizards that made him want to use every unforgivable at once.  
"Professor McGonagall could you join us?" Draco shouted.  
The Headmistress immediately hurried over, in fact she was already on her way to them. Practically everyone had left, and she needed confirmation of professor Snape's story before any further action could be taken.  
"Mr Malfoy, do you have any explanation for Professor Snape's behaviour? "  
"Whatever he said to you was the truth." he answered succinctly.  
"Merlin preserve us." she whispered.  
"Professor you need to speak to Mr and Mrs Weasley, I'm afraid their son and daughter-in-law are currently in St Mungo's."  
Draco shot a side long glance at Ron who became pallid and began to stutter,  
"what?why? W-when...?"  
"Don't panic they are alive, Bill is fine, Fleur I'm not sure ... But she is alive. They need their family. I notice that only the Weasley's and the Minister are still here, you've cleared the place?"  
"Yes most were leaving anyway." The Headmistress answered,  
"Neville and Luna are still here somewhere." Harry said looking round the near deserted Hall.  
"Ok, send the Weasley family to the hospital professor I think they will be waiting for them."  
"Yes indeed, Mr Malfoy."  
She hurried over to Molly and Arthur, Charlie, Percy and of course Ginny who were already making their way to say goodbye to Ron. The son in question hurried over with the Headmistress.  
Harry, and Draco winced at the gasps and muffled sobs that emanated from them. "Jeez that's the last thing they need, just exactly what happened?" asked Harry.  
Draco gave a rushed abridged version, when he got to the part about Voldermort's partial return, Harry heaved heavily.  
Draco guessing what was coming next conjured a bucket that Harry gratefully threw up in.  
"Well I hope that's all the alcohol." Draco grimaced In distaste vanishing it away. "Did anyone see that?" Harry asked wiping his mouth with his sleeve.  
"Draco looked over his head towards the Weasley's. "Nah, your fine you've not lost your street crew with them. It's taken a bit of a nose dive in my eyes though." he grinned, the grin was jolted of his face as Harry grabbed his robe,  
"I can't do it! I ... Just can't do it again." He gulped and tears started to fall.  
"Alright ... Alright Po-Harry its ok, this time no one's making you."  
Harry choked slightly, still clutching Draco's clothes. Draco glanced across to the far corner of the room, the Weasley's had left leaving a distraught Ron talking hurriedly to the Headmistress and the Minister for magic.  
Draco awkwardly put his arm round Harry who surprisingly staggered into his clumsy attempt at comfort.  
"Ok mate pull it together, you're not alone this time we can all pitch in to kill the son of a bitch."  
"How? I did it once, he was dead, completely dead. What more can you do he's obviously immortal."  
Harry made a strangled sound and hid his head in Malfoy's shoulder.  
"whoa, seriously, just how pissed are you Potter? Come on butch up, the Minister's coming over." To compensate for the harsh comment Draco patted his back in a consoling way. Harry straightened up rubbed his hand across his eyes and tried to look composed.  
"Mr Malfoy, I've told Kingsley what Professor Snape just conveyed to me, were you given further instructions?"  
"No Professor, just keep Potter, Weasley and ... oh ye gods Hermione! Where is she?  
"With Bill!" said Harry and Ron in unison.  
"Wait, if Bill's in St Mungo's how can Hermione be with him?" Ron asked giving Harry an enquiring look.  
Harry rubbed his eyes again and coughed.  
"She's not with Bill, she's with Macnair, Snape will kill me if anything happens to her." We better find her." replied Draco.  
"Ron where's Cho? " asked Harry peering around the room with his blurry eyes.  
"I don't know where she's been half the night, think that's over mate. Harry have you been crying?"  
"No, his occulas charm is wearing off." Draco said quickly.  
"Oh right, have you got your glasses?"  
"Erm, yes, thank you Ron it's fine." Harry blurted, nodding gratefully at Draco.  
"Ok Ginny said she will contact us from the hospital, so do we wait or do we search for Hermione? Ron asked.  
"Wait" replied Minerva and Kingsley in unison. "Search" shouted Harry and Draco.  
"We can't wait professor, that's our friend." Harry pleaded.  
Kingsley and Minerva exchanged nervous glances as Neville and Luna came over to find out what the commotion was about.  
"look we are wasting time, Hermione's an accomplished witch but she needs back up. Harry and I will go to the tomb and search the grounds. Maybe Neville can guard Potters study, don't go in The Dark Lord ..."  
"Say his name." Harry hissed.  
"Yeah right V...Voldermort has access to the floo, In fact professor close the floo now! " The headmistress immediately hurried away. "Weasley, explain everything to Neville. Then both of you guard the study, keep out of sight if you can. If Macnair is still on the grounds he may return to the study. Minister, please can you remain here with the headmistress when she returns. If we need your help Potter will send his patronus. That goes for everyone.  
"Come on Potter, let's go."  
Draco grabbed Harry's wrist and pulled him forward, Harry stumbled in his wake but began to run with him.  
As they left the hall still running, Draco waved his wand in the air.  
"Accio Sobrius potion"  
As the reached the entrance to the caste a small glass bottle flew through the air, Draco let go of Harry's wrist and caught it.  
"Drink this, it's a sobering potion, it's good I've used it many times, so has professor Snape, I guessed he'd have some."  
Harry drank the potion wrinkling his nose at the taste and texture of raw egg white.  
"That's nasty, when Snape accuses me of theft, I'm going to say it was you."  
Harry said, feeling the effects of the potion immediately.  
"Yeah, ok and I will tell him about your little freak out session."  
"Fine, I stole it."  
"Thought so."  
They opened the doors, sending each other worried looks at the loud crunching grating noises it made.  
Once open Harry said "Shall we use my cloak?"  
"Alright sounds like a good idea."  
Harry removed his cloak turning it the correct way round and they both stepped under it.  
"Ok, lets make our way to the tomb."  
Harry nodded and set off carefully keeping pace with Draco.  
It was cold and the night was at the point of blackest before dawn. Fortunately both Wizards knew the grounds like the backs of their hands.  
"Ok, there's the tomb, crap it's open! I can't see anyone around it."  
Harry whispered.  
"For Merlin's sake Potter don't blow air in my face again, you stink of eggs and vomit."  
Hissed Draco between clenched teeth.  
"Sorry, shall we go up to the tomb?"  
Harry replied aiming his voice to his feet."  
"Yes ok."  
On approaching the tomb it was clear they were alone, the ground was heavily disturbed so it was a good assumption that more than two people had been there. Removing the cloak from their heads they peered into the tomb.  
Harry and Ron shivered at the sight of Dumbledore's body.  
Harry gulped, "it's gone!"  
"What's gone"  
"The wand the unbeatable wand."  
"Is that the one the Dar... Voldermort had?"  
"Yes it's dangerous, tell The headmistress it's gone."  
"I said you would send the patronus."  
"Yes you did... Sorry." Harry cast the spell with his brief message, telling the headmistress to secure the castle.  
Draco watched the stag wistfully.  
"I wish I could do that."  
"You can."  
"Nope, Death Eaters can't."  
"Snape can, and your not a Death Eater now."  
"I assume Snape could because he was working for the order, no other death eater can."  
"You can see the tomb, that means your no longer a Death Eater. Only those who mean no harm can see it. Recently it was moved and charmed, for protection of the wand.  
It's not about the dark mark Draco, it's about the dark heart, Snape loved my mother, and yes helped the order. He had a light heart, the patronus needs light. I think you have found your heart has light too."  
"That sounded totally Gay. " Scoffed Draco uncertainly.  
Harry ignored his deflection.  
"Try it Draco, send it to find Hermione, concentrate on your happiest thought, then cast the spell."  
"What am I Peter Pan?"  
"Just do it idiot."  
Draco closed his eyes and rummaged through hideous memory until he heard his Fathers voice say ' your Mother loves you... I love you.  
"Expecto Patronum!" he said clearly.  
Something small but bright flickered from his wand. It fluttered ahead of them.  
"What the hell is that?" Harry squinted up.  
"Erm... I think it's a bat."  
"Cool, bad ass, tell it to find Hermione."  
Draco huffed a sigh of relief and directed his patronus, in truth he had a moment of worry that it would be a bunny rabbit or something, he was defiantly getting soft.  
The bat spread its wings and soared ahead.  
Pulling the clock over their heads they began to follow it. Trying not to think about what would happen next.

* * *

Kreacher and Professor Snape appeared back at the Hogwarts gates. Letting go of Kreacher, Snape cast a charm, the enormous iron gates swung open then closed neatly behind them. Glancing to his side Snape could see that the old house elf was still trembling next to him, Snape spoke smoothly, "You did really well Kreacher, for you that's the worst over, I know it's difficult but would you go back to Hogwarts and tell Minerva what has happened, tell her to prepare the Medical bay, just in case."

"Yes sir." The frightened elf disappeared.  
Snape sighed and looked out over the moonlit grounds, where would she be?"  
He knew there was no point going to the tomb they were long gone, so he retraced his memory, visualising the direction he had seen Hermione run in when chased by Macnair, it was towards the forbidden Forrest.  
In moments Snape was at the edge of the Forrest, at a loss to understand why the girl would run that way, there were more enemy's than friends in the forrest, but then it wouldn't be the first time the resourceful girl had trapped a foe that way. He went to retrieve his wand once more, his only option being to send a Patronus ahead of him to find her, he was uneasy though, if she was still with Macnair then his patronus would alert him that the rescue was under way.

Then he heard it again, the scream was guttural, thick. Suddenly a small orb of blinding painful light appeared behind his eyes. Snape closed his eyes, held his head in his hands and gave in to the sensations; he could hear her voice.  
Snape winced as he searched his mind clearing her screams to uncover her voice. "Professor... Professor... Severus! acromantula" he heard every word. His headache cleared, the light faded from his eyes.  
"Good Girl" he whispered. Closing his eyes he sent her a message, "I'm coming." he hoped she somehow could hear.

Hermione ran towards the forest, determined to keep the Death Eater away from her friends at the castle. What she would do in the forest she had no idea, she hoped the centaurs might help her, but she was an adult now and it seemed unlikely, hopefully she could just out run him and hide.  
Her wandless magic was limited and in her panic she could not perform a charm to save herself.  
Thorns caught her beautiful dress ripping it in various places, low branches scratched at her arms and face as she blindly flew through the undergrowth. For a moment all she could hear were the insects, owls and the fast pump, pump of her heart, she stopped still, out of breath and clutching the stitch in her side, she glanced round sure she had out run him.  
In the pitch dark she sensed no human movement, and only the rustle of the leaves in the wind could be heard.  
She turned back around slowly, trying to gauge her location, she was back at Aragog's old nest.  
'Why do I always end up here?' she wondered.  
She tried to decide which way to go, she couldn't stay out all night, never had she been so cold, not even with Harry in the tent. Her thin little dress gave her no protection and the warmth the alcohol gave her when first setting foot on the grounds, with the fake Bill, had long gone. Hermione could barely stand still with the tremors the shivering gave her.

She heard a twig crack. Swinging round sharply she saw her attacker lunge at her.  
As she was tackled to the floor, she screamed and flailed; biting, scratching, and hitting.  
Macnair used his whole weight to pin her down on the cold damp Forrest floor. Charming a branch into a length of rope, he began to bind her by hand. Tugging and pulling at the rope, as he kneeled on her frantically bucking legs, he tied her wrists first, and then her ankles, but not before she managed to elbowed him in the face cutting his lip open.  
When she was fully tied up he stood back, panting with the physical exertion. Hermione had stopped struggling and started screaming, she screamed for Severus and Harry, yelling for all she was worth.  
He kicked her viciously in the side, "Shut up!" he bent down, ripped a section of material from her dress and gagged her with it, muffling her shouts and shrieks.  
"That's better" he grimaced, kneeling by her side.  
"When you were at school you had the reputation of being the greatest witch of your year, I heard it. Now I can't believe it." he snorted.  
"I'm wondering how you kept your grades so high, did Severus help you?" He laughed at the scared girl at his feet.  
"I bet he did, you have been quite useless to us. For some reason our magic won't work on you, but I did spot something just as my curse rebounded. He placed his hand on her breast causing her to buck and try to roll over futilely. He grinned and pulled again at her ruined ball gown, ripping it further, displaying the top of her chest and the pearl that nestled there. "Is it this? How pretty, Let's take this little trinket off and see how my Crucio works then, ...or maybe my Imperio, the things I would get you to do."  
Hermione's eyes were wide with fear as Macnair bent towards her and grabbed the chain, trying to rip it off her neck.  
He let out a howl of pain as he fell back clutching his hand, a burn mark already manifesting on his palm. He rolled on the earth nursing his hand until the initial pain wore down.  
He rose again clutching his hand to his chest. His voice was hoarse and his breathing ragged, he was clearly in considerable pain.  
"Fine, let's do this the muggle way obviously it's the most fitting way for a Mudblood to die, and I'm going to make it slow ... and terrifying."  
He pointed at the earth with his wand and a six foot chasm opened up, still nursing his hand he looked for a large fallen branch, pointing his wand again he turned it into a coffin.  
"Look how thoughtful I'm being, saving your muggle family on funeral costs."  
Then with difficulty he lifted the squirming, fighting girl, being careful not to touch the chain, and dropped her into the coffin. Flinging the hinged lid closed, he sat on top of the coffin, then he transfigured another stick into a hammer and some nails. From his astride position on the coffin he began hamering the lid shut. Underneath him he could feel the vibrations of her gagged screams the banging of her body as she thrashed around in the restricted space.

Once he had the lid secure, he pushed the coffin towards the hole, howling loudly as the action pained his burnt hand. He decided to risk magic on it as technically he wasn't using it on Hermione directly, it worked. The coffin levitated above the hole and then with a swish of his wand it plummeted six foot down with a bang. The thrashing sounds ceased,"maybe the fall has knocked her out" he thought grimly. Macnair looked down into the rough grave to check his coffin survived the fall. "Strong coffin." he remarked to himself smugly. After he levitated the earth back in the hole covering it with a small mound, he laughed and said "Rest in peace Princess." Then disapparated to his master.

Hermione was indeed knocked out for a whole minute, once awake in the darkness she feared she was blind, then her memory flooded back, and she knew exactly where she was. The gag around her mouth made it difficult to breathe, she began to hyperventilate and gag, thrashing forward, she felt the lid of the coffin against the top of her head. In panic she lifted her bound feet and hammered them against the roof of the coffin, thinking that she may not yet be buried. This normally would have been quite useless when covered with that amount of soil, but the six foot drop had weakened the coffin's structure. Hermione heard the wood split, and she realised her mistake as particles of earth started to fall through the crack. Self preservation began to overcome the rising hysteria. Realising how little air there was, made her steady her breathing and try to conserve the fast disappearing oxygen. She could feel herself start to black out, stars burned at the back of her eyes, her lungs felt like they were bursting. As she decided she was going to die the pearl around her neck shone brightly, illuminating the inside of the coffin. Unfortunately, this did not dispel her fears as now she could see the nightmare she was in, she could see the dirt continuing to fall on her body as if she was trapped in an hour glass. However the pearl made her feel loved and confident of rescue, she remembered her occlumancy lessons, she felt the urge to think words of help, "Professor... Professor... Severus! acromantula!" Apart from the quiet sounds of dirt trickling on her, there was silence, the light of the pearl went out, her eyes closed for a few moments then a blinding light emanated from the pearl once more, she heard that strong clear voice that she longed for "I'm coming!" and everything went dark once more as she slipped away.

Snape lay the wand on his palm and said "Point me" the wand indicated the direction, and he set off at speed, in minutes he was at the acromantula's old nest. Snape lit his wand and spun around the clearing, panic surged up from his stomach when he realised she wasn't there. He ran amongst the trees noticing the tree where they had hidden from the death eaters the day he found the Sekhan. He approached the tree hopeful she might be near it. The desperation he felt when he realised he was alone was unreal, he touched the rough bark of the tree, trying to remember how she felt against him. "Hermione where are you?" he shouted feeling useless and impotent.

He looked over into the darkness in the direction of the place the Sekhan had been found. Knowing that Macnair would remember this place very well he pointed his wand towards the patch of ground and followed the light, thinking he would have to look for clues.  
Pointing the wand at the ground he saw a mound of earth clearly recently disturbed.  
"Dear God no!" he exclaimed, stepping back he pointed his wand at the mound swishing it, flipping the earth to one side leaving a massive gaping hole.

Snape rushed over to the edge forgetting all the magic he ever learned, as he jumped down the hole narrowly missing landing on the coffin itself.

He wrenched the lid off with his bare hands. Recoiling in horror at the sight of Hermione half covered in dirt, motionless and still, recovering himself he bent over her, pushing his hand under her back to raise her up. Remembering his wand he released her joints from the ropes. Placing the wand on top of her lap he supported her back as her head lolled onto him. Absentmindedly he untied the gag with one hand. He placed his fingers against her neck while his cheek lay against her mouth hoping to feel her breathe. He swore loudly and tears began to fall, he couldn't feel anything, he climbed into the coffin, a knee either side of her, clinging to her cold lifeless body. By exchanging the arm that supported her he took off his cloak wrapping it around them. "Come on Hermione breathe, please breathe." he pleaded as he rocked her gently, "Please." with one arm around her back and one hand nestled in her curls, he began to nudge her with his mouth, nuzzling frantically over her face, whispering into her skin... "Wake up...Wake up" She coughed, he felt her chest heave... She opened her eyes and began to thrash and scream punching Snape away. She convulsed with hysteria as Snape fought to gain control of her dangerous lunges.

"Hermione, it's me Severus, you're safe now, you're safe, look at me Hermione, you're safe, I'm here, you're fine, you're just fine... Oh my god you're alive." Snape pulled her into a near foetal embrace, stroked her hair and waited for the sobbing to subside. She stilled against him but then he felt her cold arms reach around his neck and cling on tightly.  
"Alright let's get you home, Hermione, I need my wand I've dropped it." Hermione didn't speak she just clung on tighter. Snape freed one arm and routed in the coffin between them, finally clasping the wand. Holding her tight, he fired a spell that lifted them out of the grave. They landed on the floor by the grave side.

Snape tried to prise her fingers from round his neck, but the harder he tried the more she dug in. Giving up, he twisted her body so she lay in his lap. "Hermione, I'm going to cast a warming charm on you, your freezing." She made no comment just moved closer under his chin. He felt the charm take affect as she transferred some of the warmth to him as well. "Alright, we need to move now, can I levitate you?" The hug tightened once more, Hermione was not letting go of her safety net. Snape sighed and stood with difficulty bouncing his charge up into a bridal hold..

He started to walk, "Thank you." He was startled to hear her voice, and a small smile fleetingly appeared on his stern face. "I'm sorry I was late."  
She didn't reply, having drifted back to an unconscious state. Snape checked she was just asleep, and continued to walk. He hadn't been walking long, when a silver light flew towards them, Snape immediately realised how foolish he had been to place his wand back in the cloak that was wrapped around Hermione. Thankfully, he realised it was a patronus. A bat, he'd never seen it before, but it could only mean help, the bat turned and fluttered ahead, so Snape followed it.

Seconds later he heard running footsteps, Draco and Harry were hot in pursuit of the patronus.  
They stopped in surprise squinting in the early morning darkness.  
"Professor" Gasped Harry.  
"Is that Hermione? What's wrong with her?" Draco asked coming close to touch her.  
Snape moved so Hermione was out of his reach.  
"She was buried alive by Macnair but she's ok, I was just in time."  
Draco and Harry were open mouthed in shock.  
"Levitate her sir it will be quicker."  
"I did think of that Potter, but she won't let go."  
"Erm, ok, let's go as fast as we can then" Harry said, privately thinking that if Snape wanted her to let go he would damn well make her.

They marched towards the edge of the forest, the light was growing steadily with a morning mist starting to settle. "Are the Weasley's safe Draco?" asked the Professor, breaking the silence. "They are in St Mungo's, so far there has been no attack on Hogwarts."  
"Is that your Patronus Draco?" Snape asked as the Patronus disappeared. "Yes sir."  
"Well done Draco."  
Draco smiled, "Thank you sir."  
Harry listened to this interchange and thought back a year, if anyone had told him then about this little scenario he would have laughed.

It seemed like an eternity before they got to the castle, all three weary, in particular Snape looked like he was on his last legs, he was starting to stagger as they approached the entrance to the school. "Professor let me carry her." Draco said watching him stumble a third time.  
Snape ignored him.  
Harry had already sent a patronus ahead asking for the security on the castle to be lifted so they could come in.  
The castle door swung open and the Headmistress rushed forward wringing her hands.  
"Oh my dears, the worry, are you ok?"  
"Yes Professor, we are all fine. Is everything at Hogwarts ok?"  
"Yes, Yes." she ushered them in and resealed the giant doors.  
Snape staggered against the door.  
"Good heavens, what happened."  
Snape just shook his head "She needs the medical bay."  
"Can you manage Severus or shall I levitate you both."  
"I can manage." he snarled. McGonagall didn't ask why he was carrying her, she learnt her lesson last time, instead she bustled forward telling a portrait to alert Madame Pomfrey. As she continued walking she addressed Draco and Harry.  
"Boys you need to rest, I think the room of requirement would be best. Once I secured the castle and sent out an intruder alert spell, I relinquished Neville, Lunna and Ron of their commissions, they are also resting in the room of requirement. I will send food, drink and night clothes, you will be safe there. The Minister of Magic has left to talk about tonight with the ministry."  
"I want to stay with Hermione, I always do." Harry said stubbornly.  
"Not tonight Mr Potter you can visit as soon as your rested. We will take good care of her."  
Harry scowled at both Snape and McGonagal, opening his mouth to argue, "Harry I want to stay with her too, but we can't help her tonight and you need to check on your girlfriend's welfare." Draco said softly.  
Harry nodded miserably.  
"Thank you Mr Potter. Sleep well Mr Malfoy."  
At the appropriate juncture Harry and Draco turned and went up the stairs, the opposite way to the medical wing.

Snape stumbled again, and McGonagall placed an arm around his back to support him. His instinct was to throw her off, but he was very close to dropping Hermione, so he silently allowed the assistance.

On entering the medical centre Madame Pomfrey, marched over with her usual calm and matriarchal manor.  
"Place her on the bed Severus."  
Snape bent over the bed, lowering her down gently. He reached over to un clasp her arms but she went ridged. He glanced up at the two witches, "A little help." he choked out.  
Both witches began to prise the fingers from around his neck, succeeding with some force. Hermione started to shake and scream. "A calming draught I think."  
Madame Pomfrey held her head still and pored the potion in her mouth, Hermione spluttered and coughed, but the majority of the potion hit its mark. Her limbs stilled, and her eyes closed once more. The medi witch performed a vital spell, and said that other than a slight concussion and some bruising to her spine she was fine.

Both Snape and McGonagall breathed a sigh of relief. Snape staggered back and slumped into a visitors chair.  
"What happened Severus?"  
Snape didn't answer, he put his head in his hands.  
"Poppy would you mind if I spoke to Severus in private."  
Poppy raised her eyebrow suspiciously, "Alright the patient is stable, I will be in my office."  
As soon as she left Minerva summoned another chair over next to Snape.  
Sitting down she touched his arm gently, he jumped like he'd been electrocuted.  
She sighed, " Please trust me, what happened?"  
"I killed someone."  
"by accident?" McGonagall asked willing him to say yes.  
"No ... with deliberation." came the whisper, his head still in his hands.  
"Why?"  
Severus told her the whole story, while still looking at the floor, pretending not to notice the hand that was stroking his shoulder.  
"He deserved it, Antonin needed to be killed." McGonagall said firmly.  
"I'm not a judge, I'm not the jury and I certainly do not have the right of execution. Yet I performed all three." he said bitterly.  
"He would have killed you. It was self defence, you're not in trouble. You have killed before and never taken it this hard, what's so different?" fleetingly Snape remembered Dumbledore's face as his killing curse had hit him. A bubble of tears pushed through the corner of his eyes and the hot wetness dripped down his face for the second time that night. "With my bare hands, it felt so much more real than with a wand."  
McGonagall summoned some tissues and passed them to her colleague.  
Embarrassed, he cleared his face and took a deep breath.

"You did the right thing Severus, now what happened to that terrified girl?"She asked pointing to where Hermione lay.  
He told her all he knew about Hermione's ordeal.  
The Headmistress herself began to cry softly, "She will never sleep well again." she said, wiping her own eyes.  
"Yes she will." Snape spoke quietly to himself.  
"Macnair has an awful reputation, he wouldn't have interfered with her would he?"  
"I think not, although I believe he may have tried, her dress is ripped at the front."  
"Well I hope your right. I'm going to call Poppy we need to dress Hermione for the night and clean the dirt and soil off her. I suggest you return to your rooms and rest.

Snape nodded and stood up, he forced himself not to look in Hermione's direction as he left the room.  
In his private chambers, Snape showered and dressed, ordered a cup of tea. He knew there was no point going to bed, his mind was full of Hermione's screams. After placing his teacup down, he marched out of his room, and raced towards the medical wing. As soon Snape entered he could hear Hermione whimpering and turning over in her sleep.  
Walking towards her bed he spotted both Minerva and Poppy sat by her side.  
McGonagall looked up sharply.

"Severus what are you doing here, I told you to get some rest."  
"I couldn't sleep, give me an occupation, or I will run mad." he replied.  
"There isn't anything for you to do..."  
Hermione gave out a small but terrified scream, and placed her hands above her face as if scrabbling at something. Snape rushed forward and caught her hands. "Hermione your safe, go to sleep, your fine just fine." his voice vibrated in her ear.  
McGonagall stepped forward to usher Snape away and reprimand him for impropriety, when she realised Hermione was sleeping although she was now gripping Snape's hand.  
"Goodness we have been trying to settle her for an hour, she can't have anymore calming draught for another three hours." stated Madame Pomfrey in disbelief.  
Snape made to release her hand and she immediately started to stir again.  
McGonagall held up her hands in resignation.  
"Fine I'm getting some rest, she's all yours Severus call us if she wakes."  
Snape nodded clasping the girls hand again.  
Left alone he whispered his mantra to her once again, letting her know she was safe. She reached out for him with her other arm pulling him closer to the bed. It was very uncomfortable and he felt weary now he knew she was alright.  
So, he untangled himself from her arm and sat on the edge of the bed. His conscience plagued him for a second until he said "Its just an hour, it's just some sleep." He lay down next to her, holding her hand, listening to her soft measured breathing, as he closed his eyes he felt her turn and throw the opposite arm over him snuggling into his side. He gave in to the heavy feeling of sleep and his last thought was 'I won't worry about this now, I will worry when I wake up."  
Three hours later, Minerva appeared in the medical wing.  
She saw Hermione wrapped around Severus, she also noted that Severus had reciprocated.  
Sitting down she decided to wait for him to wake up. It didn't take long he woke with a jolt, retracting his arm like he'd been stung, but he kept hold of Hermione's hand.  
"Good Morning Severus."  
Snape let his head fall back on the pillow in dismay, how long had he been asleep.  
"So Severus, how many times is it now?"  
"Honestly Minerva, I have lost count."

*_**thanks littleblueeyes and your friend.***_


	31. What now?

_**We are closer to the end now, this is a bit of a filler chapter just to summarise the story so far. Snape is about to connect all the dots. I hope your enjoying the story, I guess if you have got this far it can't be all bad. My thanks again to littleblueeyes and everyone who has given me encouraging reveiws,without them I probably would have given up.**_

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, McGonagall spoke," I need to know what's going on Severus. Hermione seems peaceful, I think you can leave her in Poppy's care now. I will give you ten minutes, and then I expect to see you in my office."  
Snape remained still, looking at the ceiling, avoiding all eye contact with his superior. This was unfamiliar territory. He was mortified, to be so exposed after years of building the reputation he desired, that of the unapproachable recluse.  
A few months, numerous near death experiences and a young woman had destroyed his whole character. She had changed the ending to his story; the ending where he would be dead by Voldermort's design, the ending he had prepared for. Snape was not prepared for this, whatever the outcome. He certainly did not want to be under Mcgonagall's scrutiny just now. He had his own questions he couldn't answer.  
When he was sure the Headmistress had left, Snape sat up and looked at the small hand he still held. The grip was looser, Hermione was calmer. Gently he placed her hand on the mattress and slipped his own away.  
She stirred slightly, but did not threaten to wake up. Gingerly he pushed off the bed. Snape straightened his clothes and looked at Hermione once more. It was hard to reconcile this sleeping young woman, with the child he once taught, and for a second he wished he'd never laid eyes on her.

The door to the medical ward opened, Madame Pomfrey strode in.  
"She seems peaceful Severus, well done, I can take over now."  
"Indeed, I will return later to check Miss Granger's progress."  
Snape swept out of the room without a backward glance. He arrived at his own room and grabbed his cloak, swinging it over his shoulder's. With this retrieved he made his way to the Headmistress' office.

On the first floor of the tower the stone gargoyle barred the way.  
"Toffee apples." Snape said with his usual sneer at such frivolous passwords. The gargoyle made a grating sound and slowly began revealing a spiral stone staircase...

Sat behind her desk straight backed with a severe yet tired look to her eyes, the Headmistress waited for him.  
"Sit down Severus."  
"I think I would prefer to stand."  
"I didn't ask for your preference."  
"It's probably going to be quicker just to acquiesce is it not Minerva."  
"Probably...so sit."

Snape lowered himself into the chair.  
"Tea?" McGonagall enquired.  
Snape shook his head. McGonagall ignored him, poured out two cups of tea and pushed a cup towards him.  
"Is this conversation going to be worth having, if your going to ignore everything I say and do?" he sighed.  
"I will be selective about what I choose to ignore." she took a sip of tea and watched Snape begrudgingly sip his own.

"What has been going on? What danger are we facing? Explain to me how Voldermort can be back, and please tell me there is something we can do about it."  
Snape looked up, his eyebrows arched in surprise at the sudden quick fire questioning.  
"I've already told you, Voldermort has possessed Rabastan Lestrange." He stated.  
"Why do I feel that there is a lot more to this story that you are not telling me Severus?"  
"Because you have a suspicious mind, it develops with close association with Dumbledore and Potter." He answered.  
A soft chuckle escaped the portrait behind McGonagall.  
Looking up to the portrait, Snape sarcastically greeted his one time mentor. "Albus, how marvellous your awake!"  
"Severus...tell her the whole story, the time is past for half truths, even I see that now. Don't make my mistakes." Dumbledore urged.  
"It was you, who told me not to speak of The Hallows." Snape answered.  
"Yes indeed, and I thank you for being most loyal and my most trustworthy friend, but times have changed, we need to trust all our friends. Start from the beginning my boy."  
Snape told McGonagall everything he knew about the Hallows. He told her about how he had been twice manipulated by Narcissa. He explained how he knew she was a Kitsune and how he was convinced she still wasn't what she seemed. Snape further explained the Egyptian concept of Ren, and how to use the true names of the Hallows in order to master them, he told them that he now knew two of the names.  
There was one embarrassing moment when he told both Professors how he had brought Lily back, albeit as ghost.

When he had finished his narrative he leaned back in his chair and waited for the Headmistress' reaction.  
"Albus, it appears we have the opportunity to stop this progressing further. Harry still has the cloak or Khaibut, Severus still has the..."  
Snape placed the wand on the desk.  
"The death stick? The unbeatable wand? The stick of destiny? God knows its real name."  
"Quite" McGonagall answered, eyeing the Wand like it might jump up and bite.  
"Well, two out of three ain't bad." piped up the portrait.  
"Muggle song references? Really Albus?"  
Severus shook his head.  
"Don't encourage him Minerva he might start singing it."  
McGonagall shuddered, "Albus can you visit the room of requirement? I had a portrait placed there. Please arrange a meeting with Mr Potter and Mr Weasley, in half an hour in my office."

"Draco Malfoy as well, thank you Albus." Added Snape.  
"My pleasure, it's a shame, I'm sure you would have enjoyed my musical rendition." With that Dumbledore left his portrait empty.

"Why half an hour? Why not immediately?" Snape asked.  
McGonagall smiled, "Because we...are not done." She took out her wand and waved it gently. Earmuff's and gags appeared on every portrait. Turning once more to Snape she said, "Talk."

"Forgive me Headmistress but I was under the impression that I already had."

"Not once in your whole narrative did you mention Hermione. That's a rather telling Omission, does it affect any aspect of the story that may impede our fight against the Death Eaters?"  
Snape was silent, his usual intense gaze was focusing on Dumbledore's empty portrait. "No... I've told you everything you need to know in order to protect the school."

"So why did you not even mention her? I know she was there when you found the Sekhan, I know she must have been around when ever you mentioned Harry and Draco. "

"I don't know, it's not important." Snape folded his arms in his usual defensive pose and lowered his eyes to the floor.

McGonagall sighed, "Severus... It's very important. Your going to hurt yourself, and your going to hurt her. Explain to me what you think your doing with her?"

"Why should I ? Why can I not have a measure of privacy Minerva?"

"Because I'm not sure it's appropriate, and I'm not sure what it is."

"It!... Is nothing."

"Severus half an hour ago you woke up with your arm around a barely twenty year old girl. You... That was you! A thirty-nine year old, who, forgive me Severus, acts and looks even older. You don't do that, your life has been almost a monastic existence. I've never so much as seen you admire anyone other than Lily. To be honest Severus, had it not been for Lily I would be convinced you were not interested in females at all. So don't tell me this is nothing, don't tell me it's just friendship, because I've been offering that, and you don't want it. You don't have friends."

"Your... my friend Minerva." he spoke still without looking at her.

McGonagall smiled. "Don't deflect Severus. What does she mean to you? And more importantly what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I'm confused. Every time she saves my life or I save hers it gets worse."

"What gets worse?"

Snape unfolded his arms and covered his eyes with his palm, his elbow resting on the desk. "The need to protect her."

"Is that all?"

There was a silence as Snape contemplated his reply. "The need to hold her." He said quietly.

McGonagall was quiet, she was waiting for him to speak more, waiting to see what more he would disclose.

"I think about her, and I see this annoying little eleven year old that sets my teeth on edge. Then I see her, speak to her, and she is this highly intelligent beautiful woman. She won't leave me alone. She was teasing me at the ball...me...Severus Snape! Why would she bother? How does she even dare? I treated her appallingly as a child. I don't even understand why I feel this way now, I've never, never felt like this before. With Lily everything was without expectation. But Merlin preserve me, I think I expect something this time... And it's wrong I know it is." He still did not look up, as he allowed himself to spew out all his emotional confusion.

McGonagall waited a few seconds before speaking.  
"I understand it Severus. She's very like Lily... Muggle parents, highly intelligent, able to see past the cover of a book. It's not ideal... but it's not wrong, she's not a child, and you never entertained thoughts of her when she was young. It's just unfortunate that people will always know you were once her teacher. Have you acted on your feelings Severus?"

Snape groaned at the embarrassment of being asked such a question. "No."

"Severus!?"

"I'm not a child Minerva, stop treating me like one, why do think you have the right to ask me?"

"I'm your boss and I need to be aware of situations within the workplace. I'm also your much older friend, who likes to give you motherly advice, just as your own mother should have done. For all your power, your strength, and your intelligence, and I mean this Severus, you are the greatest Wizard besides Dumbledore that I have ever known; but in this area you are more of a child than Hermione. So don't lie to me, have you acted on it?"

"I... bought her a gift, a book."

"Is that all?"

"I kissed her face repeatedly."

"Merlin's beard, you mentioned the book first! When did you kiss her?"

"When she was unconscious in the coffin."

"Oh dear Lord! Could you get more gothic? So she doesn't know about the kiss."

"No... Thankfully. I'm not even sure she knew I was with her in the medi bay."

"Oh ...she knew my dear. Question is what now?"

"We could wipe her memory."

"Severus! No."

"Would you want to remember being buried alive?"

"Well no, but I think she might like to remember being rescued, and by whom. When she wakes up, how about I ask her if its a memory she can live with?"

"Fine, have you finished mortifying me Minerva?"

"Not completely. Let's defeat Voldermort again for good, but this time we are working together. We will win. Then maybe you can examine your position with a clearer mind. The feelings you have, may just be the result of a strong magical bond caused by the repeated saving of life. But in my experience, you only get bonded when feelings were involved in the first place. It's like the protection Lily gave Harry, it was strong because she was willing to die for him. Would you die for Hermione?"  
For the first time Severus lifted his head up, thoughtfully he looked McGonagall in the eye and replied decisively,  
"Many times over."

The headmistress gazed back at him seeing the depth behind his dark eyes.  
"Well you both seem to keep trying. I do hope neither of you ever have to."

"No one must know."

"I won't damage your reputation. Although I fear Miss Granger might. Anyway, I think that concludes our heart to heart discussion Professor."  
"Thank you, that was... painful." grimaced Snape.  
"I'm sure it was. Everyone will be arriving in a moment. We need to discuss plans of action. Will you lead this conversation or would you like me to fill them in."  
"I will, I have questions. Please I'm sure I have no need to reinforce this but..."  
"Our conversation has ended and Mr Potter will not be made aware of any part of it."  
Professor Snape stood up, lifted his wand and waved it at the portraits.  
The gags removed the noise of the furious Headmasters and Mistresses was overpowering.  
"Quiet! Or I will put them back on."  
Shouted Snape, swinging round dramatically.

As if Perfectly timed a knock was heard at the Head's door.

* * *

Hermione jolted out of her sleep shouting out in fear, only to find the firm arm of Madame Pomfrey around her shoulders.  
"Your alright, your at Hogwarts. Nothing's going to hurt you."  
Hermione's frightened eyes searched the room, then returned to the Medi witch.  
"Madame Pomfrey... It was...I was..."  
"I know dear, but your safe now."  
Hermione shook her head.  
"No I will never be safe... No one will until all the Death Eaters are dead."  
Madame Pomfrey didn't answer. She let go of Hermione to reach for the calming draft.  
"Will you take some? Just for now, it will help you stay calm, I won't give you enough to sleep, just the right amount to be calm enough to reason and function."  
Hermione nodded.  
The potion did de-clutter her mind, it pushed back the disturbing flashbacks, not far enough to be forgotten, and certainly not far enough not to return, but it allowed Hermione to compose herself and think rationally, in doing so Madame Pomfrey sat next to her bed.  
"A shower, some fresh clothes and you will feel much better."  
"For now."  
"Yes... For now. For now is fine, because that's what we have to deal with, the here and now. It's no good worrying about the future, let's deal with that when it becomes the present."  
"The Death Eaters...They are still there, still after us. How can I not worry about dealing with that?"  
The Medi witch looked thoughtfully at her.  
"The look on Professor Snape's face when he brought you in... It was murderous! He's out for revenge, mark my words... he will deal with it."  
"Then maybe I should worry about him." Hermione muttered under her breath.  
Madame Pomfrey didn't hear Hermione's comment as she focused on her medical care.  
"You have lots of bruises, I have a salve that will reduce them for you. You had a bite mark on your shoulder, I treated it when you came in. I have to ask did he..."  
"No...he didn't, he just tried to scare me. Honestly, other than punches and bites he left me alone."  
"Well that's a relief."  
Hermione started to sit up, Madame Pomfrey aided her carefully.  
"Shall we try that shower? Wash last night away?"  
"We can try." Hermione replied with a thin smile. "Where is Professor Snape?" she asked as she shakily stood up from the bed.  
"I don't know, I imagine he is catching up on some rest. He spent a good portion of the morning with you."  
"Did he?" Hermione asked in surprise.  
"Yes, he did. I think some how he blamed himself for whatever happened last night. It was most peculiar you would only calm when he spoke to you. Did you think he was someone else?"  
"I don't remember, did he say anything?"she replied.  
"Nothing much, he just held your hand and told you over and over again that you were just fine." The witch responded as she slipped her arm around Hermione's waist.  
The young woman's body went totally rigid, she turned sharply to face her assistant. "He did What? He held what?"  
"Oh my dear, I'm sorry... I shouldn't have said, I know ...horrifying for you. The Professor meant well and indeed it did seem to calm you down. Maybe Mr Potter's help or Mr Weasley's would have been more acceptable to you. Unfortunately, he was the one who found you, maybe this is what made him feel responsible for your distress, he meant well... In fact I don't think I've ever seen him make an effort like that before... Strange."  
"It's fine, I just didn't expect Professor Snape to.. well it doesn't matter. I think I will be fine in the shower Madame Pomfrey. I'm not really hurt just shaken."  
Hermione brushed off her confusion and was desperate for a moment to herself.  
"Well if your sure dear. I will transfigure you some clothes, we can't go in your house yet. Call if you need help in there."  
She held open the bathroom door for her to enter. "Here's the salve, pop it on your bruises."  
Hermione entered the sterile bathroom and used the surprisingly un-magical shower. The scalding water steamed the room very quickly. Hermione placed her left hand on the shower wall to keep herself steady. The sting of the hot water on her cold skin made her gasp. She uttered an incantation to moderate the temperature. The water was now pleasantly warm, it ran soothingly over her body. Feeling wobbly she leaned forward, placing her forehead against the cool tiles that were dripping with condensation. Her right hand played with the pearl around her neck.  
Memories of the bright light that had emitted came back her. The memory of the deep voice that reassured her, made her shiver despite the warm water. "He saved me again." she whispered to herself.

* * *

The Door to the office silently opened. Ron, Harry and Draco stepped into the room hesitantly, apprehension lingered on their faces. They all looked sleep deprived and irritable.  
McGonagall gestured towards the extra chairs that had magically appeared. "Sit down Gentleman."  
The Young men shuffled forward and sat opposite her desk, glancing at professor Snape nervously and exchanging worried looks with each other.  
"I'm sure you will be pleased to know that Hermione is fine and you can all go and see her later. She is very distressed as you can imagine, the experience she went through will be hard to forget. However we now need to clarify what is happening, it is now time to involve the ministry."  
She looked across at Snape who mutely nodded in agreement.  
"I understand you know that the Hallows are the object of attention here."  
All nodded in assent.  
"We are all on a similar page then, Professor Snape is going to fill us in on some areas we are missing."  
Everyone turned to stare at Snape.  
His black eyes glittered dangerously, his hair was once more loose and framing his pale face.  
Bereft of alcohol, Harry and Ron could not find him anything other than intimidating. Snape glared at them pausing as if willing them to make some smart comment. When he realised that non were forthcoming, he spoke. "I don't wish to cover old ground. The facts are simple... The death eaters are being aided by a kitsune, I would love to insult your tiny intellects by explaining what such a creature is, but I have, over the years realised that Miss Granger shares her extensive book learning indiscriminately... So has she?"  
Harry and Ron replied "Yes Sir", Draco who was slouching casually in his chair, just gave a slight nod in his direction.  
"Alright, the kitsune swears she wants the Death Eaters dead she's just a spy using them to get to the Hallows. Apparently she needs them to protect her family." he paused to look at Draco, the lanky figure had straightened up at this.  
"I don't think I believe her. Narcissa is the Kitsune's chosen form. I do not believe that this has always been the case. I don't believe your mother is a Kitsune Draco. My reasons are simple, Firstly, in my whole acquaintance with her, I find it impossible to believe she could have deceived me or her family for so long. Secondly, if she was a kitsune the unbreakable vow I took to protect Draco would have been useless as it only works with wizards. Thirdly, I am a master of occulmency. I have deceived the greatest of wizards in history..."  
Ron coughed, but it sounded suspiciously like "cock"  
Snape raised his eyebrow and smiled dangerously.  
"Well at least I have one."  
Ron spluttered in surprise at the retaliation.  
"I am not your teacher, so stop behaving like the class clown. Grow up Mr Weasley... It's overdue."  
"Can we return to the matter at hand Severus. Mr Weasley, could you refrain from coughing, if you are struggling to contain yourself, suck a sherbet lemon."

Severus continued down his list of suspicions,

"The fact remains that Narcissa could not possibly hide the fox from my mind.

So we have three possibilities.

One, Narcissa has been possessed recently by a Kitsune.

Two, It's not Narcissa at all.

Three, I'm wrong and Narcissa is a Kitsune. It will be of no surprise to you that the third option is most unlikely. I'm sorry Draco but I fear your mother is possessed by the kitsune."

Draco didn't respond, his blanched face just remained focused on his Godfather.  
"In summery regardless of who ever the person bearing Narcissa's form is, she should not be trusted. She wants Harry's cloak, she wants the wand, yet fortunately I have the wand here." Snape retrieved the wand from the desk and toyed with it as he continued to speak.  
"The Death Eaters must not get them, alas they already have the resurrection stone. So, our first action is to protect these items.  
The kitsune told me of old magic. She told me that those who are murdered by the killing curse can be brought back."  
"May you die!" exclaimed Harry.  
"Exactly Mr Potter, Hermione has excelled herself. The Kitsune insists that the Death Eaters must be killed by muggle methods, otherwise we risk evil bringing them back in the future. I say if the Hallows had been destroyed in the first place, we would not have this problem. It's too late now. We were fighting five death eaters and one of them is Rabastan, whom is host to the spirit of The Dark Lord. We are now fighting four, I drowned Antonin Dolohov last night in order to get the wand."  
The silence in the room was almost deafening. Snape continued,  
"I believe that the remaining death eaters are in residence at Grimmauld place. We need a plan, we need to imprison the death eaters and kill what remains of the Dark Lord...we need to get hold of that damn stone. So has 'the chosen one' any ideas?"  
"I trust you. I will do as you tell me. I will not make the same mistakes as last time." Harry spoke seriously with unmistakeable sincerity.  
Snape was taken back for a moment. "I'm afraid Mr Potter that the solution eludes me at the moment. I have some ideas that need clarifying. I may have to become the student and learn from Miss Granger. I need to research a few things. So let's focus on keeping the school secure, no student may leave. We must make sure the floo network is securely closed."  
McGonagall spoke up to assure him.  
"It is Severus, I also have Mr Potter's study secure."  
"Please recruit Mr Longbottom and Miss Lovegood in the protection operation." Snape added.  
"We have." replied Ron  
"Good. Potter, what do you want to do with the wand? Your the master do you want to keep the cloak and wand?" Snape asked.  
"No... if the items are split up then they are harder to steal, keep the wand Sir." Harry replied.  
"Sensible Potter ."  
Harry scowled at the note of surprise in Snape's voice. He choose not to retaliate.  
"Don't let the cloak out of your sight."  
"I won't."  
Snape turned to McGonagall,  
"Inform the ministry and any surviving order members of our position here. I'm now going to seek out a resolution. May I have your permission to depart from this meeting now."  
"Indeed, please be quick Severus."  
"I will endeavour to be as quick as possible. Draco? You know your commission. What ever the outcome I have your mother's best interest at heart."  
"I know, I trust you too." was Draco's quiet reply.  
With this Severus Snape swept out of the office in a billow of capes.


	32. Revolver

_**Hi, the first half has been edited by littleGreeneyes. The next half will be soon. Many thanks To her for such hard work. Again it's takeing me longer to wrap this up than I thought. Please review I've been slowly working on this since June and it would be great to end up with at least 100 reveiws. Thanks so much for reading and following.**_

Harry, Ron, and Draco left the meeting, and started to walk back to the room of requirement.

"So I guess all we can do now is wait for the old dungeon bat to sort himself out, and tell us what to do next."

"That's my godfather Weasel, show some respect."

"Why? He never shows us any."

"Because you have to earn it." Draco snapped.

"And how are you earning it? Didn't realise you were looking for brownie point's"

"Oh shut up, both of you. We need to work together. I've never liked Snape, but let's be honest I never had much of a chance did I? I grew up surrounded by half truths. The only genuine things I've ever known are You, Ron, and Hermione. I know the truth now, I have the facts , I'm starting again. If my mother could be friends with that man, I'm sure I can learn to respect and tolerate him. I've got a feeling that I may have to anyway. As for you Draco, I've hated your guts from day one..."

"Cheers Potter, clearly our feelings are mutual."

"Let me finish, I'm sure you will agree that both of us were lied to. Over the past few months I'm starting to feel like I'm seeing the real you, even though you're an arrogant arse... I like you. I want to be friends, we can work together Draco, can't we Ron?"

Harry jabbed his elbow in Ron's side.

"Ouch! Err... yeah I guess so." he said rubbing his side.

"Well Harry, I don't know what to say other than; despite your annoying moralistic and pompous attitude to everything... and ignoring your weird little crush on me. I accept your friendship."

Harry gave a yelp of outrage while Ron snorted.

"Bloody hell! I don't... I take it back...little crush? you wish! You can stuff your friendship up your arrogant arse!" Harry blurted out while Ron and Draco laughed outright at his indignation.

"Chill! I'm messing with you, conversations with you are way to serious, lighten up. So, are we going to find Longbottom and Loony?"

"Luna!" Ron and Harry corrected.

"Fine whatever, Luna. So are we?"

"Yes, let's check everything's still fortified, and all the protective spells are still in place." Ron replied seriously.

"We can fill Neville and Luna in as we go." Harry agreed.

"Shall we visit Hermione when we are done?" Draco asked.

"Yes, and then we wait for Professor Snape to start the action. It feels weird waiting for somebody else to make a move. It was always us deciding how to move forward."

"Well yeah, but to be honest Harry I'm quite enjoying our diminished responsibility."

Harry nodded and they continued walking to the room of requirement, where they had left Neville and Luna asleep.

A few hours later, night was drawing in, the castle was quiet. Rota's had been drawn up to patrol the castle. All teaching staff were now aware of the approaching peril, although full details were not given by McGonagall, enough information was relayed to emphasise the seriousness of the situation.

The ministry had been in contact via the owl post. Hogwarts was being watched by aura's from the outside of the grounds.

Satisfied that for now Hogwarts was safe, Harry, Ron and Draco went to visit Hermione, in the now very familiar school infirmary.

Hermione was sat up on the bed fully clothed in a black jumper dress, she looked calm and composed, but Harry perceived a slight tremor in her hand.

"Hey Hermione, your up! I have to be honest, visiting your sick bed is getting a bit tedious." Harry said softly teasing her.

"Tell me about it." she replied, opening her arms for a hug from him.

"Are you ok?" he whispered in her ear as he embraced her carefully.

"Yeah, but I don't want to talk about it."

Harry released her and allowed Ron to give her a quick hug too.

"Are you badly hurt?" he asked looking over her in search, as if to detect some injury.

"Just bruises, otherwise I'm absolutely fine... A little traumatised that's all. I've heard about Bill and Fleur, are they ok?"

"Bill is bruised and traumatised like you. Fleur was badly hurt, no one can believe she survived, the miracle is, that the baby was unharmed. She will have to stay in hospital for some time while they treat the spell damage, but she's going to be fine."

"That's a relief, I'm so sorry Ron, your poor family have been through enough."

"Yeah well, we're tough. What about your family? Do you need them here?"

"No, I'm ok, no need to worry them, they don't understand anyway. Also, they are hard to contact at the moment, my mother doesn't want me using magical means, as it might scare the villagers they are working with."

"Fair enough, as long as you're sure."

Hermione nodded, and turned her attention to Draco who looked remote and withdrawn.

"Where's my hug Draco?"

She smiled as Draco let out the breath he was holding, he had feared she would hold him responsible for his mother's actions. He approached her and hugged her, for longer than strictly necessary. "I am so sorry that my family were once again the cause of this."

Hermione surprised him by kissing his cheek, "We don't know that yet, and even if it turns out that your mother is a murderous Death Eater, then it's still nothing to do with you. I still want to be friends."

"Thank you Hermione." he flushed slightly and quietly withdrew from her arms.

Hermione smiled as brightly as she could and addressed them all. Permanently changing the topic.

"So what's happening in Hogwarts?"

They briefed her on the security, and their doubts about lessons being continued the next day.

"Maybe some staff will teach the younger years. But most are involved in the security plans." Harry finished.

"Hermione where's your wand?" Ron asked suddenly noticing it wasn't at her bedside.

"I've lost it, Dolohov took it."

"Sorry, that's a nuisance, we need to find you another one. I will ask Professor McGonagall about it for you."

Ron assured her

"Snape killed Dolohov, knowing my Godfather he will have searched him and if he still had your wand, well Snape will have it now! I will ask him." Draco chimed in.

"He killed him? How?" she asked in shock.

"Drowned him apparently, took us by surprise to, he didn't go into details." Draco answered.

At this point McGonagall walked into the bay.

"Hello Hermione, how good to see you up. Gentleman will you excuse us for just five minutes. Don't go away just wait outside."

They all murmured their consent and trundled off.

The headmistress waited for them to be out of earshot. She sat down on the visitors chair beside Hermione.

"Well Hermione, We are here again." She smiled and continued, "You seem in good shape physically, how are you...really?"

"I'm fine, I don't want to talk about it. I'm sorry I just can't keep going over it."

"I know dear, but sometimes you have to talk. I want to give you another option. Do you want me to wipe your memory?"

Hermione considered this option carefully, She was slightly surprised at the head's extreme suggestion.

" it's only been one day, I think I need to see how I deal with it. Experience can make you stronger, survival can make you appreciate what you have... I think I would like to see how strong I am."

McGonagall reached out to grasp her hand firmly,

"Promise me that if you feel overwhelmed or you can't sleep that you will talk to someone. Remember you always have the option to remove it from your mind."

Hermione gave her hand a grateful squeeze and replied.

"I might need the memory, I might need to draw on it in order to help defeat the Death Eater's. Thank you for the offer and the concern, if I ever change my mind I will tell you."

McGonagall let go of her hand and rose to her feet. "Well I think some more rest, it was the early hours of the morning when you came in to the medical wing."

" I'm so tired and last night is so hazy, I don't even remember how I got here."

"Professor Snape carried you... Again." the headmistress answered sharply.

Hermione took a sharp intake of breath, composed herself and responded glibly. "Really? How tedious for him."

Flash backs of his apologies and concern flooded her mind, but it was jumbled and hazy."

"Yes my dear, very tedious. The boredom he must have endured while watching you sleep. It's quite understandable that he should fall asleep next to you. It's equally understandable that you mistook him for a child hood teddy bear, post traumatic stress is documented as sometimes making people regress a little." With this closing comment McGonagall turned heel and left the room.

Hermione's friends soon trooped back in the room. Harry spoke first.

"Just here to say goodnight. Professor McGonagall says you need the rest, we will pop back in the morning and make plans. "

Hermione nodded and mumbled her good nights.

"Are you ok?you look flushed do you have a fever?" Ron asked in concern.

"No I'm fine. Good night then." She replied hurriedly.

The trio left the room quietly, Draco with a little wave and a knowing grin that Hermione did not like at all.

'A teddy bear! Nobody could ever mistake the prickly professor for such an item.' She wondered how exactly she'd given that impression. 'I must have clung to him' she thought. 'Why did he let me?'

Soon Madame Pomfrey was bustling in, disturbing her recollections. She was given another calming draught and was bid good night.

Two hours later Hermione found sleep impossible. When she closed her eyes she could hear the thud of earth, she could smell the wood of the coffin. She sat up in the darkness. After blinking away a few stray tears that escaped in her panic, she made her decision. She dressed and left the medical wing quietly.

* * *

Professor Snape made his way back to his rooms, determined to study and discover the name of the wand. As he entered the room, he sensed something was different, someone had been there. A quick glance around the bookcases and tables showed nothing had been removed, but something had been added. He walked over to his desk, a huge, seemingly ancient bible lay unopened where it hadn't been before. Snape ran his wand across the leather binding. Then tapped it and uttered the words, "Reveal your secrets." The old book flew open with a loud thump, dust raising into the air as it did so. Concealed within the pages was a large solid looking gun with an intricately decorated handle. "How original" Snape murmured sarcastically. He performed a few more safety spells, when he was sure it was safe to touch, he removed the gun from the cut out pages. Underneath was a letter, he placed the Gun down carefully, then picked up the note and began to read.

Dear Severus,

I hope you like my little gift, its very you, dark, dangerous and fun to play with. I've even had your slytherin allegiance engraved on it.

I know you don't trust me, but I need to prove my sincerity. This is a 1851 Navy Colt Revolver. It is for your safety, half-cocked. The hammer is also resting on the sixth empty chamber. To use you need to rotate the cylinder to a fully loaded chamber, fully cock and pull the trigger. It is fully primed, oiled, and ready for use. As skilled as you are, it is unlikely that you will be a crack shot without practice. So bide your time, wait for point blank range and shoot to the head or heart. It's for you to protect your charges. Remember; muggle death is the only way to defeat Voldermort. Don't allow your new conscience to stand in the way. The death eaters must die and there is no fair play.

Yours

Inari

'Inari? That's her real name? Or is it? I recognise that, I don't think it's a name. What makes her think I would use this muggle death stick?' He picked up the revolver and examined it carefully, feeling it's solid weight, Inscribed on the handle was a snake entwined around a staff. 'The muggle symbol for medicine, this is for killing not healing, so why that design?' As Snape quietly mused on the strange gift he placed the revolver back in the Bible and noticed the page before the cut out.

Genesis and part of Exodus were stuck together, the only readable page was in Exodus. Snape wondered if it was deliberate. He scanned the page and realised this was the period that Jannes and Jambres the magic practicing priests were living. 'The Ten plagues of Egypt culminating in the death of the first born of Pharaoh. Chapter 11 verse 4' he read aloud. "About midnight I will go throughout Egypt. Every firstborn in Egypt will die, from the firstborn son of Pharaoh, who sits on the throne, to the firstborn of the slave girl, who is at the hand mill, and all the first born cattle as well. There will be a loud wailing throughout Egypt-worse than has ever been or will ever be again." As he finished reading there was a soft knock on his door, he closed the bible hurriedly and hid it amount his other books.

Snape walked towards the door wearily, and opened it, he gazed dumbly at the woman standing before him.

Hermione was casually and warmly dressed. Her hair was untamed and wild, she had the unmistakable air of a person who had just woken up from a nightmare.

"Please... Can I come in?" she asked.

"It's late, I'm not sure it's appropriate." Snape replied.

"Do you want to see me beg?"

Snape sighed in resignation and moved aside to allow her into the room.

"Draco mentioned you might have my wand. Did you really kill Dolohov? "

Snape pulled Hermione's wand from his robes and passed it to her. replying "I did" as Hermione took her wand from his grasp.

"Thank you." she waited for him to respond, or even tell her how he killed the death eater. Harry and Ron would have regaled the tale immediately and she marvelled at the professors cool restraint. Realising that no comment at all would be forth coming, Hermione glanced around his office, takeing in the piles of books and scrolls. "your researching?"

Snape nodded.

"Can I help?"

"I think not, it's late, you should rest."

Hermione walked over to the fire place and sat in the armchair facing the warm blaze. "I don't want to rest, I would have to close my eyes, I'm scared If I do, I might not be able to open them again. I can still feel the earth pouring in on me... I can feel the lid of the coffin. So please, let me help you, I need distraction, don't leave me on my own."

Snape watched her from the doorway, indecision rooted him to the spot. "Your not on your own, you have Potter and Weasley. I'm sure my Godson would be happy to keep you company also."

"It's your company I want! Why can't you just accept that?"

"Because it's preposterous, look at me!"

On his command Hermione looked at him, her determined chin jutted upwards.

"Now look at you!" he snarled.

"No... You look at me!" she snapped back. "Now, tell me what you see that makes it so wrong and so preposterous that you won't even consider my friendship."

Snape looked at her, his hard expression collapsed as he appraised her.

"Your perfect." he muttered.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me."

"Yes, but I didn't understand you. I'm not perfect, I have many faults most of which you have found and displayed over the years. So why say that? And if you think I'm perfect, why use it as an excuse to be so distant?"

"Children need their faults pointing out, hopefully then, they will over come them. For some reason You irritated me as a child, more than some of the others."

"Why?"

"You reminded me of my childhood friend. I needed no reminders of the youth I lost."

Hermione realised she was being compared to Lily, she didn't much care for the comparison. Then she realised he had expertly and effortlessly deflected from her main question. So she drew it to his attention again.

"Are you going to answer my original question? Why does the child that clearly irritated you ... now seem perfect?"

Snape's expression became blank with the desire to say and show nothing more.

Hermione's face was aglow with the firelight. The determination for his attention and answers radiated from her, he knew she was not going to let his foolish comment drop. He sighed heavily again, rubbed his temple with his long fingers. Without looking at her, he answered with measured precision.

"Perfect to me. You tolerate me, nothing I do seems to knock no, I don't want to be friends. Ive had perfection once before, and I found something to destroy it. The odds are totally against me surviving friendship with you. You're young, impressionable, surrounded by young friends, all of whom despise me. That's what I see when I look at you. When I look at myself, I see a dead man walking. I'm sullied, marked, cynical and bitter. Worse still, I'm fine with that, I don't want to change. I don't want saving, I don't need to be mothered, I do not want pity. I'm not a project for you to practice your altruism. As your friend I would Distroy myself, and taint you by association. If we became friends, and if I didn't alienate you immediately, I guarantee you that one day, you will look at me properly, and think, I have nothing to say to this bitter and ugly old man, by that time... I would be utterly dependent on your friendship, as I was with lily's. I can not do that to myself again." He still stood by the door staring vacantly into the fire, closing his mouth firmly as the last word escaped him.

"Profesor? Close the door and Sit down."

He shrugged and sat in the opposite chair."You sound like Professor McGonagall."

"I'm not Altruistic, far from it, I'm actualy being very selfish. I don't do anything from pity, I just want your company, your help, and I want to find and kill Voldermort. So for now can we just deal with that, let's help each other for the greater good?"

Snape propped his elbows on the arm rest's of his chair, his fingers clasped and steepled under his chin.

Hermione waited for him to speak. The long silence made her feel like squirming on her seat. She determinedly fought it and kept still.

Snape drew himself up, withdrew his elbows from the arms of the chair, and sprung to his feet. His decision made, he barked out his order.

"Start reading, I will make some tea... Familiarise yourself with the book on the top of that pile, we are looking for the true name of the unbeatable wand. I always find a good starting point to be... page three hundred and ninety-four."

Hermione snorted at the feeble joke and the complete disregard of the previous conversation.

She stood and moved over to the desk, lifting the smallish book from the large pile of dusty tome's.

Snape turned his back on her in order to prepare some tea.

"Severus?"

Snape froze in shock at the use of his first name. He did not verbally respond.

Hermione walked back to the armchair, she sat down, opened the cover and perused the first page. Without looking up she said, "You do know we've not been discussing just friendship don't you?"

Snape choked on his shock, recovered himself, and without turning round, or acknowledging the provoking comment, he said,

"Turn to page three hundred and ninety-four."

Hermione smiled to herself and turned over the page.

A few minutes later both were silent as they trawled through various documents and books, Occasionally pausing to sip their tea.

"Professor?"  
Snape looked across at Hermione inquiringly.  
"I can't find anything helpful in these Japanese text books, are you doing any better with your book?"  
Snape's eyes returned back to the book on his lap.  
"I'm working on Egyptian texts."

"But you said the kitsune is Japanese, why would there be a connection with Egypt?"

"Just because your born in one country doesn't mean you can't move. I think this particular Kitsune once lived in ancient Egypt. In fact, I think it's highly probable that she had a son who died during the plagues of Egypt. Did you read the book that I left in your room?"

"Yes I did, I read that story about Anubis and the fox. Does that mean Narcissa could have been a Princess?"

Snape continued to read, but shook his head emphatically. "It's not Narcissa, I'm sure of it. Her name may be Inari."

Hermione felt a little jolt of excitement as she realised that she understood the word.  
"Inari? That's a type of kitsune! I've just re -read a passage about them in this book. " Hermione blurted.

Finally, Snape looked up and gave her his full attention, stating what he suddenly remembered about the Inari.  
"I knew I had heard it before, I have been trying to remember where I read about it, Inari is not her name, it's her job and character. Inari are generally only workers of good, and messengers to the gods."

"That would explain the legend with Anubis, she broke her trust with him and stole the Sekhen! If she's good, why would she do that?"

"The kitsune has an overriding desire to protect family, resorting to any desperate measure to do so, sometimes by immoral and illegal means... They justify themselves, that their motives are pure. If their family's are never threatened, then they live law abiding lives."

"Ok, so she's protecting Draco."

"No your not listening, she's trying to get her Egyptian son back. She told me only muggle death is permanent. Deaths caused by the Avada Kedavra are reversible.

"Was her son killed by that spell?"

"It would be the quickest way to take out every first born in the land, but I don't think it was magic that killed her son, I think she just wants it to be. Let's think about what we know about the Hallows for a moment..."

Hermione stood up and walked over to him, as she transfigured his chair into a small sofa with one smooth action.

Snape growled at her."What are you doing?"

"Coming to look at whatever you're reading, and I'm tired, I want to be comfortable." She sat down next to him, ignoring his frosty attitude.

Snape closed his eyes for a moment, huffed a sigh and continued.  
"First the resurrection stone, what do we know about it?"

"It's true name is Sekhem which means power, authority, mastery.  
The Sekhem can, on it's own bring back the ghost of a person. The ghost will only remain as long as the stone is held. The Sekhem has appeared in magical history many times, notably in the tale of the three brothers. From that tale we can assume, that the stone was owned by Death. In light of Egyptian mythology, maybe Anubis is the same as death, maybe the bards story was inaccurate when it suggested that death made the stone for the three brothers, maybe it was always in his possession."

Snape smiled, and replied dryly,  
"Text book perfect as ever. I think it is worth mentioning that, some ancient texts can be like Chinese whisper's, they can get distorted over time. So where does the word Sekhem come from?"

"Egypt?"

"Yet again, the resident know it all hits the mark. So if the stone has an Egyptian name what can we assume about the cloak and the wand?"

Hermione scowled at the Professor. Then responded in a brusque manner, "That they have Egyptian names?"

"Yes, so now let's talk about the cloak, impress me."

"Impossible I think." Hermione muttered.

"Get on with it" Snape prompted sharply.

Hermione crossly stated what she knew. "The cloak is also in the three brothers tale. We think it's name is khaibut, The Egyptian word for shadow. The cloak, when mastered, hides and covers from death."

Snape inclined his head,  
"That was acceptable Miss Granger, now tell me what you guess about the cloak. I know you have suspicions, I can feel them buzzing away in your mind."

Hermione sighed, and continued to talk. "I read a story, Edgar Alan Poe The Red Death. The character of death had a concealing cloak very like Harry's. Along with this, Ron mentioned the inside of the cloak, it reminded him of something.

"Snape's eyebrow rose in his usual expression of disdain.  
"Really! the dunderhead observed something?

"Don't call him that. Yes he observed something and it was interesting. He said that the inside of the cloak looks like the veil at the department of mysteries."

"Indeed... Most interesting." Snape was silent, contemplative.  
Suddenly he spoke again, making Hermione jump.  
"Although I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, maybe it's not valley, maybe it's veil. The veil of shadows, maybe... That's where all the magical souls reside." He mused aloud.

"It's where Sirius died."

At the mention of Sirius' name Snape snapped out of his thoughts,  
"Yes I'm aware of that. Your idea about the red death is interesting too, death under yet another name. If I remember correctly, he brought the plague, that's what killed the Kitsune's son, the red death. Maybe that's why the stone didn't work for her, even in ghost form. The plague is a muggle death. So now we come to the wand ... we need an Egyptian name. That is what I'm searching for. Look, the stone and the cloak are names of parts of the human soul according to Egyptians."

Hermione leaned over to peer at the page he was pointing at.  
Snape felt the brush of her arm against his and tried his best to ignore it, even so his fingers trembled slightly.

" Look at that word Akh!" Hermione pointed to the page, leaning right over Snape's lap, her hair brushing against his startled face,

"I would if you weren't in the way." He said, roughly pushing her aside."Akh, part of the uniting of the soul?" he asked, looking at the paragraph she had pointed too.

"Yes, I read about it in the book I was sent. At the reuniting of certain elements of the soul the Akh which means magically affective one, would animate during a ritual called the se-akh 'to make a dead person into an living akh. Would the wand not do that? Could the wand be the Akh?"

"Possibly, let's see."  
Snape pulled out the wand held it aloft and softly said "Akh" there was silence. Snape shivered and felt energy drain from his body. It went out through his hand into the wand. His hand shook as it felt the palpable power, the wand channelled through his fingertips. Golden Flames engulfed his outstretched hand, the fire slid down the wand, off it's tip and across the room. The air in the chamber seemed to thin, it was the result of the back draught from the wall of flame blazing out and forming a symbol that was instantly recognisable.


	33. No more nightmares

The fire blazed a vertical line down the far side of the room. A flame chased around it creating a circle of fire, and finally with a golden flash a triangle framed it completing the symbol.

Hermione gave a breathless gasp of astonishment "The hallows." she whispered.

"You are remarkably good at stating the obvious." Snape commented weakly, while trying to regain his breath and keep his hand steady.  
Taking out his own wand he undid the magic, sending the fire back up the elder wand or Akh. The energy surged back through his body, causing him to shake slightly as though an electrical current was being directed at him.  
The room dimmed as the light from the wand vanished.  
Snape allowed himself to rest against the back of his new sofa, closing his eyes to fight a feeling of nausea that had engulfed him.

"Professor? Are you alright?" Hermione was holding his arm and peering at him in concern.

He removed his arm from her grasp and stood. "I just need a moment." he said quietly. He left the room stumbling slightly, causing Hermione to stand in order to aid him. Before she could offer her assistance he'd left the room.

In the bathroom of his private quarters he splashed cold water on his face, and regulated his breathing. Gripping the sides of his basin he muttered, "I'm to old for this crap."  
Once he felt his energy levels return to normal and the nauseous feeling dissipate, he returned to his study

Hermione was perched nervously on the edge of the sofa.  
Snape sat opposite in the arm chair.  
"Before you ask I'm fine, I just needed air. The energy was sucked from me and then pushed back, it wasn't a pleasant sensation."

"Do you require two sofa's?"

Whatever he thought she was going to say it wasn't that.  
"I do not require one! Why should I desire two."

"Then sit next to me or your going to get two!"

The Professor refused to move, his sardonic smile yet again gracing his pale features.  
Hermione raised her wand and directed it at the sofa.  
Snape flicked his own wand with a non verbal disarming charm. Hermione's wand flew across the room to the professors out stretched fingers.  
"I think not, we mustn't play with what isn't ours. " he drawled.

Hermione bravely walked forward.  
"Give it back please."  
"Not until you leave, I will not have you directing it against me or my possessions."  
"Give it back, I promise not to do so again, not tonight anyway."  
"No"  
"I can make you give it back."  
"I highly doubt that, Miss Granger."

Hermione decided to do what she always did with Ron and Harry when they messed about with each others possessions. She opted for force, coupled with close physical proximity. A brave decision when faced with an uptight repressed dungeon master with three wands on his person, or maybe just a foolish one."  
She grabbed at the hand holding her wand trying to prise his fingers from the grip. He looked at her quizzically,  
"What are you trying to achieve?"  
"I am attempting to make you uncomfortable so that you will give me back my wand."  
"Thank you for clarifying, I was slightly confused. Just to inform you, I'm not in the least bit uncomfortable, I'm mearly amused that you think your tiny hands have the strength to overpower mine."  
Indeed his fingers had a vice like grip.  
Hermione let go of his hand and contemplated the professor.

"So Miss Granger unless you wish to leave... and lets be frank that is perfectly fine by me, let's start researching how we use the three names we now know to gain mastery of the hallows. How do we unite..."  
He broke off because at that moment Hermione leaned over him and kissed his cheek.

Snape dropped both his wands, they fell to the floor with a clatter. Calmly she picked them both up, transfigured the chair into a sofa and the opposite sofa she turned into a chair again. "That's called compromise. It's a noun, an agreement or settlement of a dispute reached by each side listening to the other and making concessions. I'm not sure it's a word you have in your extensive vocabulary. It's a good one to learn."  
Hermione held her wand aloft and gave professor Snape his back. She sat next to him and levitated a book towards them. Pocketing the wand neatly when the book landed on her lap.  
"Are we sitting comfortably? Then shall I begin?"  
She opened the section on Egyptian death rites and placed it on his lap.

"You ... You.. infuriating witch! Your never going to leave me alone are you?" he spluttered.  
"Not now I know you think I'm perfect, that was a little lapse in verbal judgement on your part. We are wasting time professor, let's study."

After a while the excitement of the discovery of the name, coupled with the adrenaline fuelled sparing, began to die down. All the words on the pages began to look the same. It was late, the strains of the previous night were showing.  
Hermione's book slipped from her lap. At the same time her head lolled against Snape's shoulder. The loud bang of her book hitting the stone floor, jolted her awake, realising where her head had momentarily rested she apologised.  
"I'm sorry, I'm tired. I didn't mean to..."  
"That is probably the least questionable thing you have done tonight, and yet you apologise for it? It's the early hours of the morning, again! Of course your tired, it's only to be expected. You should go back to the medical wing."  
"Please, don't make me. I will just come back."  
Snape's dark eyes narrowed as he thought about what McGonagall's response to such a plea would be.  
Deciding he was to tired to embark on another argument, he made a concession.  
"You can sleep on this sofa. I will get you a blanket and pillow." he replied with a resigned tone.

He was gone only a few minutes. On his return he could see Hermione was fighting sleep, dozing gently against the arm rest.  
Kneeling at the sofa he roused her, gently positioning her head onto the pillow. As he did so he saw the pearl around her neck glint in the fire light.  
"Hermione? Who gave you this pearl? Wake up just for a second, who gave it to you?"  
Hermione partially opened her eyes.  
"My mother gave it to me, she said it came from Japan, sorry I meant to tell you... I think it might be connected." She yawned sleepily.  
"Alright, go to sleep."  
He then threw the blanket over her and tucked it around her.  
"You called me Hermione. You do realise that gives me licence to call you Severus."  
"You didn't appear to need it earlier."  
Hermione ignored him closing her eyes and whispered, "Good night Severus."  
"Good night." He answered raising himself to his feet and walking swiftly to his chair.

He levitated a book over from the diminishing pile and scanned its contents until he found the passage containing references to Kitsune stones. Hermione had previously read this to Harry and Ron. Snape began to read silently.

'Depictions of kitsune often feature round white balls known as hoshi no tama. Some stories identify them as magical jewels or pearls. When not in human form or possessing a human, a kitsune keeps the ball in its mouth. Jewels are a common symbol of Inari, and representations of sacred Inari foxes, without them they are rare stones.  
One belief is that when a kitsune changes shape, its hoshi no tama holds a portion of its magical power. Another tradition is that the pearl represents the kitsune's soul; and it will die if separated from it for long. Those who obtain the ball may be able to extract a promise from the kitsune to help them in exchange for the stones return. Or it may be loaned for a short time as protection to a loved one.' Snape Stopped reading to think about the implications of this.

'That's why all those curses deflected in the school grounds. The pearl redirected the spells to attack the attacker. But that pearl is directly connected to a Kitsune's life. That's why Narcissa was affected by each curse, each one weakened her as she absorbed the hits. It's a personal protection. Hermione's mother would hardly have access to such an object? Unless, it wasn't Hermione's mother, the kitsune clearly can take the form of whom ever she pleases, or maybe she gave the stone to Mrs Granger. But then why would the kitsune have the desire to give such a precious and potentially dangerous object to Hermione?' Hundreds of questions flooded his tired mind as he worriedly tried to work out what it all meant.  
'Why didn't Hermione mention this before? It's clear to me that the book she received was from the kitsune too, and that little statue. She was being primed for this battle months ago. But why her? The chances are her mother's dead. Please Merlin, if that is the case, let it not be me that has to tell her.' His eyes drifted across the room to the sofa where Hermione lay.  
After a while, He drew his gaze away from her and continued to read. He poured himself a Fire whiskey congratulating himself that it was the first drink since the evening of the ball. Although actually, he realised that the ball wasn't long ago, it just felt like weeks. The books were unhelpful, the correct way to use the hallows was eluding him and he was running out of time. Tiredness, worry, and confusion enveloped him and his eye lids began to droop as he began to give up.

A muffled scream brought him back to the room with remarkable clarity.  
Hermione was dreaming. Snape closed his eyes and entered her mind, he saw the grave and the coffin he heard the thud of soil, he felt the restriction of air. He pulled out, really it had been unnecessary to enter, he knew this was a dream that would probably re-occur for years.  
She turned slightly and he heard her whimper.  
He turned away and sipped at his near empty glass. 'She will stop in a minute' he thought.

She made a sobbing sound and Snape winced at the noise.  
"Damn it!" he whispered as he realised the pull to protect her was going to make him act.  
He swung round and walked to her side. Levitated her up and caught her in his arms. He sat down on the sofa cradling her on his lap, her face streaked with tears buried into his chest. "Your safe Hermione, your fine." He stroked her hair gently as he spoke softly.  
Her breathing calmed, and her sobs subsided. A few minutes passed peacefully. Snape thought she had never woken up, maybe her subconscious just recognised the safety his presence represented.  
All his comfortable thoughts about her unconscious state were suddenly dispelled.  
"I'm sorry, it was a horrible nightmare, it's embarrassing how much it frightens me." she shuddered.  
Snape remained silent in the hope she was sleep talking.  
But her soft voice continued very quietly. "I am awake now Severus, there is no denying tomorrow that your hand was stroking my hair tonight. So don't bother."  
Snape puffed in annoyance.  
"Shut up and go to sleep."  
"Please don't leave me."  
"I won't."  
She closed her eyes and fell asleep listening to the grumpy professor breathe slightly faster than usual.  
Snape was weary, he knew he'd reached a point of no return and had no idea what it meant for the future.  
He didn't know how to ask what this meant to Hermione. It all felt to complicated. He adjusted his position so he was semi reclining and positioned the blanket firmly around his burden. He closed his eyes and fell asleep almost immediately.  
The office was still and quiet for a few hours. The glow of the magical fire kept the room lit and warm.

A shadow loomed against the wall, pointed ears and a long snout moved slowly into view. The fox approached the pair and reached up to lick Hermione's hand resting on Snape's chest. Hermione sighed in her sleep and seemed to sink deeper into it.  
The creature turned to sit in front of the fire, watching the sleeping couple.  
No words were spoken but Snape stirred in his sleep as a voice urged him to wake up.  
"Severus, shush, gently, don't move, don't be alarmed, Severus you must wake up."  
Snape listened to the voice in his mind and struggled to open his eyes.  
When he did so he turned his head to the side to see the kitsune staring back at him.  
"How do you get in?" he whispered  
"Magic undetectable by wizards." she answered smugly.  
"What do you want?"  
"Your help, you know that. I'm here as the Inari Kitsune, I think this form you will trust more than Narcissa. You make quite the romantic hero there Severus. Don't worry your little one won't wake up for an hour or more, I've made sure of it."  
He growled gently back "I will never trust you, under any guise."  
"You have to!"  
"Why Hermione, why the pearl?"  
"I see, your learning. I need you Severus, you are instrumental for my plans. I see the future, I am the present, I've been the past. I know you, you need a reason for your fights. You need a cause. Why would you help me? I need leverage, I felt a bond forged between you many months ago when you should have died. I tried to use this to my advantage I prepared the girl with knowledge and protected her to the best of my ability. It's not my intention to harm her Severus. Unfortunately, you seemed reluctant to acknowledge this bond, you were wrapped up in past ghosts. If you remember in desperation to achieve my ends, I used this to make you give me the Sekhem. I did not realise that the temporary gift of the kitsune stone, that I arranged to be given to Hermione, in order to keep her safe, would recognise you as a protector. Your bond has been strengthened by my magic. It is quite apparent that you have succumbed to it."  
Snape's arms had tightened around Hermione, during this speech subconsciously protecting her from the fox in his den.

"Is it just magic then?" he asked almost despondently.

The fox inclined her head and regarded Snape with her sharp eyes.  
"No, the magic only works with what already exists. It stops you ignoring what's there."  
"Where are her parents? Did you kill them?" he whispered.  
"No ... and here's the leverage, help me and I will return them to her. If not, well... it might just be your job to tell her what befell them."  
"So you will kill them if I don't help?"  
"No, if you don't help I can't stop what's going to happen. I am not the cause of it! I'm the solution."  
"What do you want?"  
"Get the cloak, get the wand... Bring Harry Potter and Hermione Granger to the department of mysteries. You won't find a spell in those books to tell you how to bring the hallows together, they do it themselves. Don't tell anyone about this conversation, it has to be this way, the Death Eaters must believe hey have won. They will be told that you are under the Imperio at my hand."

Snape scoffed.

"Yes ... the great Wizard thought to have misogynistic tendencies, falling for the woman's schemes, not that un feasible is it my dear, in fact I think I've influenced you in that way recently, or have you forgotten? Would you be happier if I did Imperio you? I could."

Snape swallowed his annoyance.  
"How do I know this isn't a trick you have devised with Voldermort? And if you're genuine, how do I know this will work?"

"Because the moment that Harry Potter wields the akh, in the same room as the Sekhem and the khaibut there will be no doubt who is the master. And, because I am relying on you to kill Voldermort. "

"How do you kill a spirit?"

"By giving it life, what do you think I've been doing this for?"

"Honestly... I think your insane, I think your enjoying yourself."

The fox growled viciously.  
"Voldermort died by his own backfiring Avada kedavra. From that death you can come back. If I didn't bring him back, then someone else would have. At least I want to send him back to a permanent grave! In future generations I foresaw achaos, a massacre of epic proportions in a world where the hallows were lost. I am preventing that."

"But why so complicated why this way?"

"You will see, your a great actor a good spy, you can know and not reveal. These youngsters wear there hearts on their sleeves. To be convincing they have to be convinced. You must not tell them your involvement with me. You must bring them at midnight tomorrow. Severus you must also bring my gift, you will need it. See the girl does not take off that necklace. It will all become clear soon. Try to trust me, there is no other option."  
She silently vanished.

Snape cursed, she was right he could see no other options.


	34. Bending reality

Hoarse whispers could be heard in the kitchen of Twelve Grimmauld place"Narcissa! Cissy?" Rodulphus shook the woman he'd laid out on the hearth rug. Withdrawing his wand he directed a spell at her "enervate!" The prone body jerked and her pale eyelids shot open. On regaining consciousness Narcissa found herself in a suffocating arm lock, as Rodulphus embraced her, smothering rough wet kissed over her face.

"Rodulphus I'm fine just please let me breathe."

Rodulphus loosened his grip. "What happened? What power does that little Mudblood have to redirect our magic back?"

"I don't know." Narcissa struggled to free herself completely.

"MacNair will finish her off."

Narcissa looked pained and closed her eyes for a moment.

She sighed gently as if releasing tension. "I think not." she breathed. Adding in her usual haughty manor, "I have little faith in him."

"What are we going to tell my brother? we have come back empty handed he won't like it."

"I will talk to him, he reacts better to me than you."

"Yes. Why is that cissy?"

"Women have their ways."

"Yeah well, it won't work on my brother, he doesn't like women. All they do is give him ammunition to torment me about your faithlessness."

"You and your brother think that's all females can do, I use my femininity yes, but I have more than that."

Rodulphus rose from his knees and held out a hand to pull Narcissa up.

She showed no surprise at his action, once upright he pulled her roughly into him, his strong hand gripping her wrist painfully.

She looked him straight in the eye unflinching.

Rodulphus was inches away from her face; she could feel his hot stale breath. He closed the gap quickly and she submitted to his rough, urgent kiss. As he became more heated she pushed him firmly away. "I need to see your brother, further delay will anger him."

He stepped back smirking. "You're so cold. My Bella was so warm, so full of passion..."

"I'm not Bella."

"No, but you will bring her back for me, you promised. You're the closest thing I have to her right now."

"Then what? When Bella returns what will you say? Will you tell her how you took her sister?"

Rodulphus' face fell.

"No I thought not, you never think very far ahead do you my love."

Narcissa stroked her hand across his beard with an evil smile across her face. "Don't worry I can keep a secret, if you can do as your told."

He stood back from her thinking over her words and recognising the blackmail hidden between them.

He growled "Bitch" quietly.

"Hmm, nice start darling, wait here, I'm going to your brother."

She pointed to the fireside chair. Rodulphus sunk into the large armchair still scowling.

Narcissa mustered up all her energy, straightened her robes and left with her head held high.

In the corridor she allowed herself a moment of weakness as she shuddered distastefully at the kisses she had endured, and the pain the curses still left in her body. Leaning against the wall she gave the pain time to dull. Then she set off up the stairs towards the bedroom she thought of as the torture chamber.

She knocked on the door.

A cruel high voice answered, "Enter."

Without flinching she stepped into the room, looking around by the window she saw the haggard stooped form of Rabastan.

"Master?"

The expressionless puppet turned around. "Hello Traitor. I never realised how beautiful treachery could really be." Narcissa knew the voice, The voice was clearly Voldermorts.

"You killed your servant my lord. Do we not follow your example? Is that not a treacherous act?"

"Rabastan took credit for your work, he said he found the stone. Rabastan gave up the struggle of containing me within him. He was only interested in himself. My remaining Death eaters are little more than bumbling fools, but then there is you. You are not a fool, frustratingly I cannot read your thoughts. Where as Rabastan was an open book, you on the other hand are closed, and that intrigues me. I do not trust you. It is your fault I lost the war against Harry Potter. I should kill you now!"

"Maybe you should, but you can't, can you?" She replied. Voldermort did not answer.

"You need your own body, at the moment your powers are limited to mind manipulation. Although clearly you cannot manipulate mine. I betrayed you, and it was a mistake. I loved my son, that seemed to be worth my life. Now I realize there is a greater good, and I neglected it. I see the future; it is you who leads us there. You need to bring order between muggles and wizards, it is only you who can. My vision of the future came to late, I betrayed you… I am sorry. I will expect punishment, even so I will return you to your body."

She finished speaking and waited for Voldermort's reaction to her words.

"Why can't I read your mind?"

"We all have our gifts, concealment is mine, my lord."

"Did you get the wand?"

"No, Antonin Dolohov reached for it, it was a trap. Severus Snape had turned it into a port key. I fear Antonin maybe dead, I'm aware that Severus will now most likely have the wand."

"So what good are you to me witch? You failed, and now I am a Deatheater down."

"He was going to try and keep the wand anyway, he hated Rabastan, all of them did, I read their minds,I saw their mutiny in the making.

Severus however is under my command; it was he who gave me the stone. I can get him to give me the wand and the cloak. It appears that Harry Potter trusts him; he will give him the cloak, I will get Severus to bring them to us. We can meet at the department of mysteries at midnight."

"Why the department?" Voldermort asked sharply.

"Because that is where the shadows of life reside, that is the place to call back those who are lost. Did you not hear the whispers of those contained?"

"I was too occupied in my fight against Harry Potter, I did not see it. However I can't trust you."

"I don't expect you to, but I know you have no other option other than to wait for that body your possessing to rot, then what? I can restore your body… your power, if I do can I trust you?"

There was a silence that was broken by a high-pitched cackle. "It seems we are well matched, although I dislike being forced into a corner. But I understand you have been the instrument to my partial return. I'm not stupid; you have reasons of your own. Give me one reason why you would return me to life? One that isn't about your loyalty to me or the greater good... I do not believe those motives."

"I love my family, I betrayed you for the life of my son. My son is now safe. However my sister is lost to me. I need Bellatrix back, I was hoping to redeem her when you return."

"Ahh yes… little Bella, what a hold she had on those she loved, and how is her widow? Is he not consoled? How pleased Bella would be to know he has been comforted on her loss."

"Does that mean you agree?"

"As you said, you are my only hope. But I don't trust you. When I, Lord Voldermort return, be assured about my guard, it will be up. If everything goes to plan I see no reason to harm you or your little sister, she was always a good servant of mine. Go, and seduce Severus and get the hallows."

"I think Severus has already been seduced. I believe my charms are not to his taste, however his mind bends to mine, he allows me to manipulate him. I will use the Imperio. Severus will do our bidding."

"Who has won his dark heart? Surely his dead Mudblood Potter girl hasn't been at last, forgotten."

"Harry Potters Mudblood friend."

"You jest! Another Mudblood? He seems to have poor taste in ... I would say women, but she is almost a child."

"She's of age. In truth he is a little old for her. Severus knows it and has been fighting the attraction. To my knowledge he hasn't admitted anything, but the girl does cling to him my lord."

"Well I shall enjoy killing Hermione Granger. Severus Snape promised me his heart and soul. His heart was never mine. Before I kill him, again! I will show him he can give in to no one else. I shall have the honour of breaking Severus treacherous heart a second time. I will rip his heart right out of his chest. Love hurts, does it not Narcissa?"

"It does my lord."

"What of MacNair, Rookwood and Lestrange? Where are they?"

"Rodulphus Lestrange is in the kitchen waiting for me. I suggest my lord that you keep away from him. He was scared of his brother. I think he hated him. Nevertheless, Rabastan was his family, his reaction to the corpse you are possessing will not be good. As to the others, do not despair I will talk to them. Rookwood in particular hated Rabastan. I'm sure he would be the one to take you to the department of mysteries, he knows his way around the ministry very well. I have access myself using the form of Cho Chang. Keep to the room here my lord, either myself, or Rookwood will return to escort you to the department. In just a few hours you will be back as yourself once again, my Lord Voldermort"

The corpse remained inanimate at this speech, and then the cold clear voice spoke out again. "So be it, my fate is in your hands. I have no other choice. It is clear to me that only you can return me fully."

With this Narcissa bowed and made her way out of the room that reeked of death.

Back in the kitchen she heard voices. Cautiously, she entered to see Rookwood and MacNair talking to Rodulphus.

Upon seeing her, Rookwood immediately asked, "What did he say?"

"It's complicated. He's not annoyed with us and he trusts me to complete the job."

"Balls! Rabastan is always annoyed, and he would never trust you completely."

Narcissa ignored him and continued,

"I have Severus under the Imperio, he will obtain the objects and bring them to us at the department of mysteries."

The Death Eaters looked at her in surprise.

"That sounds simple." Rookwood stated.

"It's fool proof… fortunately." she replied.

"Rodulphus may I have a private word?"

The surly Wizard stood up to follow her. "Gentleman please wait here. I will be back in a moment with further instructions."

The remaining Death Eaters nodded and took a seat to wait. Narcissa led Rodulphus up to the spare room furthest away from Voldermort.

The sullen wizard sat heavily on the bed, his heavy lidded eyes fixed on her.

Narcissa sat down next to him and took his hand. He flinched in surprise at the action but remained passive.

"There has been an accident, your brother played with what he did not understand. I gave him the resurrection stone, and he used it against advice. He attempted to bring back Lord Voldermort, it backfired and the soul of Voldermort possessed him. Unfortunately his body couldn't handle it."

"Are you saying my brother is dead?"

"Yes."

His face showed shock and disbelief. "I need to see."

"No you don't, Voldermort still has possession of his body, it's not a pretty sight, Voldermort is helpless, and trapped within your brothers body."

"He killed my brother! Like he killed Wormtail?"

"No. Wormtail was treacherous, you know that. The Dark Lord needs his followers he has no reason to kill them. It was an accident, Rabastan's own impatience killed him."

"What do I do now? I hated my brother, but he was still my brother... And I..."

Narcissa cut him off, "I know we love our family no matter what. Soon Bella will be back, that's all you really need."

"I need vengeance!"

"Against the Dark Lord?" Narcissa asked.

"No against the blood traitors that caused all of this."

"Then trust in the Dark Lord to bring that about." Narcissa replied.

Rodulphus nodded. "When Bella comes back... What about you?"

"Bella doesn't share darling." She said with a mocking smile.

"No she doesn't. Do we tell her about our arrangement? Will you go back to Malfoy?"

"No to both my dear, it was fun while it lasted. You should get some rest, sleep here and I will wake you in a few hours.

Rodulphus looked pained and confused as Narcissa let go of his hand and rose to leave.

He reached out and pulled her towards him. "Sleep with me!" he growled.

"I think not" she said as she tried to pull away.

"The last time. I promise, I need this... I need you."

Realising there was no option but submission, Narcissa sighed as he drew her in. She allowed his distasteful, sloppy embrace, feeling his rough hands groping at her clothes. She felt his teeth scraping across her neck, she lifted her arms and placed her hands on his face, raising it to look him in the eye, she swept a brief kiss across his lips and placed her forehead against his. Closing her eyes the kitsune created the vision of pleasure that he was anticipating. Then she removed herself from his large figure. Watching him pointlessly flail about on the bed gripped in the hallucination she had created, she felt nothing but nausea.

For the first time she questioned her own methods.' Did the end really justify the means?'

She left the room, ignoring his disgusting moans and groans, shutting the door on the wizard that truly believed his affair with Narcissa was real.

She quickly made her way back to the Kitchen and the waiting Deatheaters.

Explaining the situation with lord Voldermort took some time, once they were satisfied with her explanations; they also went to rest after their missing nights of sleep. Then Narcissa prepared to visit Severus and Draco.


	35. Mummy's calling

**Sorry it's very short, update soon. Thanks littlegreeneyes. Thank you to all those following.**

Draco was asleep in the room of requirement, when his sleep was disturbed by a voice, insistent, coaxing and penetrating his dreams.

"Draco...Draco."

He stirred and woke, alert because the voice was familiar.

He sleepily sat up, and instinctively ran his hands through his sleep-tussled hair. Glancing around with barely open eyes, he could see his companions in various bunks sleeping deeply. Then he heard the voice again "Draco, go outside... Come to the library... meet me there."

None of the others snoring quietly, so much as shifted in their sleep. The message was clearly being sent through occlumency. 'Mother?' he thought, while searching for her in his mind.

Nothing happened, no response was forthcoming. Draco debated what to do. 'Was I dreaming? Was it real? Should I go to the library?' Deciding he couldn't ignore his mothers voice even if it was a dream, he slipped out of his bunk quietly. Automatically, he pushed his bare feet into his slippers on the floor and reached for the dressing gown hanging by the side of his bed. Carefully; so as not to wake the others, he left in search of his mother.

In the Library Narcissa paced up and down, impatiently waiting for Draco Malfoy. When the door to the library finally opened she spun round to face her son.

"Draco! Come in." She breathed.

Draco entered; closing the door gently he regarded her sullenly.

"How could you? Do you know what you've done to Dad? Do you know what you've done to me?" The questions he fired at her, forcefully demonstrated his anger. However his eyes, although full of rage, still threatened to allow the tears that recently had been all too ready to fall. He blinked angrily, refusing to surrender to the uncomfortable emotions building up.

"Draco, You've done well, your changing... You're protecting those who were once your enemies. I applaud you. Your father is a Death-eater and a coward he deserves no such accolades."

"He is still my father, still your husband. He is no longer a Death-eater. Admittedly, it does not right his wrongs, it is hard to reconcile with the things he's done. He does regret them, at the very least he still deserves honour from his only son, it is after all the only charge a son is given, to honour his father."

"Draco, how ecclesiastical of you, when did you find religion? But I rather think you missed something out? Surely the command is 'honour thy Father and thy Mother, that it may go well with you. Where's my honour?"

Draco remained silent but moved closer to his mother. He reached for her long cold fingers and toyed gently with the rings that graced them.

Narcissa eyed him with amusement.

"You always played with my rings as a little child."

Draco looked up in astonishment.

"Y...you rem-remember?" he stuttered.

Narcissa just smiled. "You're testing me Draco, clever boy.

Draco still held her hand between both of his, but then he raised it to his cheek to feel its familiar caress. As he felt the smooth hand touch his face he closed his eyes. Moving closer to her he leaned towards her.

"I would honour you...if you were my mother." He dropped her hand like it stung and stepped away removing his wand from the pocket of his dressing gown. Pointing the wand directly at Narcissa he said, "Who are you? And where is my mother?"

Narcissa sighed, disappeared and reappeared as the Kitsune.

Draco yelled out in shock, only just managing to not drop his wand.

"How did you know?" The voice sounded strange emanating from the fox it was also no longer Narcissa's voice. Draco didn't recognise it.

"My Mother would allow me into her mind, she had no secrets from me. She taught me how to hide my thoughts from the dark lord. She promised to never hide her own mind from me. You blocked me; you're full of secrets. Did you kill my mother?" Tears fell down his cheeks unbidden and ignored.

The fox spoke." No, your mother is safe; I have her memories and her powers. She will have them back, if you do as I say."

"Are you threatening me, is this blackmail?"

"No Draco, I'm helping you. I personally will not hurt your mother. If you help me we can prevent many people being hurt. I've seen the future, I need to change it, and you are destined to be a hero Draco...if you listen to me."

"How do you expect me to trust you? I don't even know who you are. Did you even want me to believe you were my mother?"

"At first …but it no longer serves my purpose. But believe me, I could wipe your mind clear of doubts right now and implant trust in there...if I wanted too."

"Why don't you then?" He asked suspiciously

"Because you can only be a hero if you're acting with free will and under no compulsion. I'm giving you an opportunity, the opportunity to be a hero. I want you to choose. Let me show you what's going to occur."

Draco was suddenly pulled into the Kitsune's mind, he saw his mother asleep on a bare floor it was dark, unnaturally so. Two other people were asleep close by, they were all in foetal positions, and he couldn't see who they were. From that image he was taken to a place he didn't recognise, black tiled walls shone with the light of spells being cast.

He could see two figures struggling together as curses rebounded. Draco recognised one figure as being a Death-eater. The Death-eater screamed out in pain. Then spat out the words, "Clearly magic still isn't going to take you down."

Draco watched in horror as the Death-eater grabbed Hermione by the neck and slammed her against the tiled wall. Hermione kicked out and thrashed around. Her hand straining and stretching out, searching for a wand she had clearly dropped. Draco tried to help but he was just a spectator, he could change nothing it was like watching muggle television. So he remained, frozen, horrified by the vision before him.

The Death-eater put his large hand under her chin and wrenched her head upwards. Hermione's pale neck was displayed clearly. A tiny droplet of light shone at the hollow of her neck, shining clearly against the pale alabaster of her slender throat. The Death-eater's rough, dirty hands kept away from the light but continued to tug her head upwards stretching her beyond what was tolerable. Draco saw him place his thumb and index finger on the windpipe wrapping his four fingers around the back of her neck. The Dark wizard then increased the pressure pushing his thumb forcefully against her, in a one handed choke hold. She fought and struggled against him, the Death-eater growled at her, and then rammed his knee to her middle, removing the hand grasping her waist he raised it to cover her nose and mouth, and squeezed down. After about thirty seconds of bucking and struggling Hermione's body began to still and she dropped to the floor.

Draco felt a pull to his mind, dragging him back to the library; he collapsed to the floor his head in his hands. Calming his breathing, Draco looked towards the fox that was regarding him solemnly.

"Is that what's going to happen, Is Hermione dead?"

"Watch Again." The Kitsune sent another scene to Draco's mind.

This time Draco saw himself enter the black tiled chamber. Something glinted in his hands. He saw himself approach the struggling figures unnoticed. He watched the Death-eater push Hermione to the wall, and as the hands tightened around her neck, he saw a flash of silver and watched himself stab the Death-eater in the jugular. The hands dropped from Hermione's neck and the Death-eater dropped to the floor.

Hermione slumped down the wall breathing sharply. He watched himself check her neck and help her to her feet.

Then the kitsune pulled him back to reality.

On the floor was a box. In the box a dagger glinted ominously.


	36. Why me?

_**Ok here is the next chapter only two to go...I think. Thanks as always to littlegreeneyes. this is a romance chapter, sorry if I suck at it.(I don't think its my area!)The next chapter will be a lot of fighting! I do have a lot of readers it would be really nice if some could give me a reveiw. Especially as I'm so close to the end...it's been a long long story!**_

Snape was surprised to find he had fallen asleep again, despite the disturbing visit from the Kitsune. His arm, or at least he thought it was his arm, was still cradling Hermione, her head rested against his chest with one arm casually draped across his waist. Snape had no wish for Hermione to wake up in this intimate pose, it compromised his position entirely.

Problem was, the Professor couldn't see how to extricate himself without waking the girl up. Gently he pulled her more towards him in an effort to release his other arm trapped beneath her. He groaned at the lack of sensation in his dead arm, and struggled to move it as Hermione stirred and snuggled closer. Snape held his breath slightly, as he prayed she wouldn't wake up just yet. Little puffs of hot air tickled his neck in a very unfamiliar way as Hermione breathed peacefully in her sleep.

Snape was alarmed by the realization that he didn't really want to move. Hermione was impossibly close to him. The last time he was this close to anyone was in his early teens, when he lay in the summer grass with Lily. Even then it wasn't like this; this was different.

He could feel every movement in Hermione's body from her pulse, to the heartbeat that hammered against his chest. Even though she knew about his shameful past, after all she knew what he was capable of, and he knew what she was capable of. She lay sleeping peacefully against him. The complete trust she had in him, to be so vulnerable, it astounded him. Finally he shifted his arm from under her, rolling her from his chest and back to his side. Then he remembered his wand, how had he forgotten? It would have been easy to move her with it. Maybe his subconscious just needed an excuse to lie there a little longer.

Snape levitated her up and removed himself from the sofa, to then place her back down. She stirred and muttered something in her sleep that he couldn't quite catch. Snape stood staring at her for a few seconds. When he realized that the blanket had fallen, he knelt down beside the sofa, picked the cover up and placed it over her, pausing again to look at her sleeping features. Automatically he lifted his hand, and with his thumb traced the contours of her cheek down towards her chin. Hermione moved down towards the sensation and kissed the palm of his hand gently. Snape froze, after all the effort he had taken to not wake her up and to then stupidly succumb to a sentimental urge.

"Good morning Severus." Hermione whispered against his hand.

Snape removed his hand to cover his own mouth with it as he silently regarded her.

"Why were you touching my face?"

He stood and turned his back on her as he replied,

"Checking you were breathing."

Hermione sat up and pushed her hair back from her forehead. Smiling at his pitiful excuse, she watched the retreating professor.

"Oh...ok, that sounds plausible, I didn't tell you about my sleep apnoea." She said skeptically.

"Why did you kiss my hand?" Snape asked as he began putting his books away.

"Because it was there." She answered without hesitation.

Snape did hesitate before he spoke, when he did, it was barely an audible whisper "I liked it." He winced the moment the words left his mouth. 'What a ridiculous thing to say when I'm about to tell her not to do it again! Maybe she didn't hear, dear God I hope she didn't hear.' He thought while pretending to straighten the books on the shelves.

Hermione decided not to push him any further; she brushed off his whispered admittance and said,

"I'm going to go back to the others, they're going to wonder where I am."

He was slightly relieved by her comment thinking; 'Thank Merlin she didn't hear me, she would never have let that go.'

"What will you tell them?" he asked trying to sound disinterested.

Hermione stood up and folded the blanket and straightened her clothes, then walked over to the professor who was still fiddling with the books on the shelves. Standing behind him for a few moments she watched his nervous twitches, amazed that such a powerful man could be so insecure.

Hermione reached out and held his arm, bringing it down from the shelves turning him to face her enquiringly. She slid her hand down his arm and grasped his hand, his fingers trembled but he made no attempt to close them around hers, but he didn't resist either. Hermione sighed and raised his hand to her mouth, and kissed each finger while closing them over her own with her other hand.

Snape shuddered and closed his eyes in an effort not to look at the woman caressing his hand. 'Oh god she heard me! Of course she did, when does she miss anything?' he thought.

"I will tell them what ever you want, I could tell them I couldn't sleep so I came to research with you, and you let me and looked after me. But maybe you would be happier and more comfortable if I told my friends I was stressed out. In my confused state I banged on your door, until you had no option but to let me in. Then I will tell them how, with all your usual sarcasm and charm, on the moment I stopped being a danger to myself you unceremoniously threw me out! Is that more you?"

Snape opened his eyes; he had made his decision he was going to ignore the feelings he'd struggled to repress. Pushing all thought of what life could be out of his mind, he slipped into teacher mode.

"Once again you were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time Miss Granger, you could have just as easily ran to the Headmistress's office and sort solace there. Disturbance of the mind and poor judgment sent you here."

"That can be the official line Professor Snape. Off the record, I need you to know that no one makes me feel as safe as you. You astound me...in every way."

"You have no idea do you? You haven't got the slightest bloody clue as to what you're doing to me! You're breaking me, destroying everything I am. I didn't ask for this... I didn't want it! But now I've felt it... No… No" he exclaimed shaking his head

"I'm sorry but I just have to ask…?" Snape was struggling to articulate, this was new to him, and he never had difficulty with words.

"Ask what? Just ask me what ever you want." Hermione prompted gently.

His face was blanched, his eyes filled with confusion, his breath was ragged and heavy. Finally his strangled voice asked, "Why me?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. When I saved your life I felt connected to you... It freaked me out. You invaded my dreams I don't know why, but now your there ...I'm used to it, I like it."

Snape grimaced, speaking through clenched teeth he said "I know why...it's a bond, it's not real... It's not a real emotion. You need to ignore it, you need to ignore me."

"I don't want to, I don't care if it is magic or a bond, love should be magic, love should bond."

Snape spluttered slightly and tightened his fingers around her slim hand. His dark eyes finally aligned with her bright ones.

"Love! Hermione...I'm old enough to be your father. I'm ugly, embittered, scarred and emotionally repressed. There is nothing to love about me. The bond will break and you will be horrified by all this."

"Please Severus. You excite me in ways you can not imagine. Your power, drama and intelligence make you the most attractive man of my acquaintance. Are you handsome? No, but your striking, arresting and very unforgettable. Bond or not I've always been impressed by you. Give me a chance to prove I'm serious." She pleaded desperately.

Snape was shaking his head as she spoke.

"No it's wrong, people will think its wrong. It will ruin your future. Please don't ask me again."

"I won't ask you again, but you will ask me."

"No Hermione, I won't. You need to go now."

"Alright, will I see you later sir?" Hermione asked sadly her eyes just a little to bright.

"Yes I need to see Potter and the rest of his friends."

"When?"

"As soon as possible, we need to take action."

"I will get them together as soon as I can. Sir? Your still holding my hand it's hard to leave when you're detaining me."

Snape let go of her hand quickly and waved her away. As the door closed he fell forward against his bookcase and randomly pulled books out hurling them to the floor and swearing loudly in frustration.

Hermione made her way to the medical wing, hoping against hope that Madame Pomfrey had not checked in on her during the night. The sight of the matron's scowl and pursed lips dashed her hopes.

"Where have you been? I was just about to send for Mr Potter... I assume you have been with him? Very irresponsible to not tell me you wanted to leave, especially after shock, you may feel well, but shock can have real physical side effects."

"I know. I am sorry I worried you. I had a nightmare I couldn't sleep, so I left to do some research for a bit."

"You are a strange young woman, what research could have been important enough to do on your own in the wee small hours?

"Hopefully research that will keep us alive and free from oppression." Hermione answered sharply.

"Well yes indeed, of course that's very important. We are all very grateful for all your efforts to protect our world, but you need to let people protect you. A heroine is no good to the world if she's dead or suffering from post traumatic stress. Learn to lean on others… you should not have gone alone."

"I wasn't alone, I do appreciate your concern I really do, but I am not a child any longer." She said firmly but kindly.

"You are to me my dear, in any case I'm glad Mr Potter was with you."

Hermione smiled sadly and left her with that comfortable delusion. "May I leave the Medi bay now? I am perfectly fine and I really need to be with my friends."

"Yes, Yes that's fine, I have no right to keep you here, I'm just concerned about you. Will you take some dreamless sleep potion with you."

"I think that might be a very good idea, thank you so much Madame Pomfrey."

Hermione then began to gather her things and made her way to the room of requirement.

When she entered their safe room she felt a rush of affection for her friends as they all smiled with genuine pleasure at the sight of her.

"Hermione, how are you? Have you come to join us?" Neville gushed.

"Yes Neville, hello Luna… its good to be out of the medical wing."

"Ahh well give it a day or two and unfortunately I'm fairly sure you will be back in there." Laughed Harry.

Hermione shuddered comically. "Don't say that, I really can't cope with another stint, I refuse to get hurt again."

Harry approached Hermione and as he took her few things from her hands he hissed, "What? Not even to get your knight in shining armour to rescue you again?"

"Shut up Harry! But thanks for omitting the greasy, that's a step up for you!"

"Don't read anything into it, I still don't like the old bat."

"I said shut up! Before you ruin a beautiful friendship."

Harry smirked and walked over to another single bed that had magically appeared in the room then dumped her things at the foot of the bed unceremoniously.

Draco sat on his own bed clutching the box the Kitsune had given him, he felt faint out of fear at the thought that Hermione was indeed very likely to find herself back in the medical wing if he didn't trust the Kitsune's advise. What made it worse was he had sworn not to repeat his conversation with anyone and the burden felt too heavy.

"Hi Draco, are you ok?" Hermione asked noting his pale features and far away expression."

'He's been like that all morning, what the hells the matter with you Malfoy? You've been like a wet rag all morning." Ron enquired sensitively.

Draco looked up and scowled at Ron then turned to Hermione with a truly disarming smile.

"Sorry, I'm just tired and hungry I guess, happy to see you out of the medical wing."

"Thanks Draco, lets ask the house elves if they mind getting us something to eat. Then I'm afraid we need to meet Se-Professor Snape. I think the time for action has arrived."

The others shifted and squirmed, uncomfortably aware that the next twenty-four hours promised to be very dangerous.

They all freshened up, changed clothes and ate, feeling refreshed and ready for battle they made their way to Snape's office, Hermione told Harry to bring his cloak. The School felt very quiet despite it being a Monday and the time being closer to lunch than breakfast. Apparently all lessons had been suspended and the teachers had returned many of the children home. It was a disaster for the school, as proper explanations had not been given due to the ministry calling for secrecy at the present time. Widespread panic must be avoided at all cost the minister had said. Proof of Voldermort's return was not evident enough to issue a warning to the Wizarding population.

Ron had taken great delight in showing everyone his morning delivery of the Daily prophet over their breakfast. Reporters at the prophet were having a field day with many theory's ranging from shoddy repair work at Hogwarts causing the school to close, to poor class management by the headmistress. One reporter even suggested that Severus Snape had lost his mind after his illness and had attacked several children, It seemed that a few children had backed this theory up.

"He just went completely mental, all I did was mention that Hermione Granger looked sweet with Draco Malfoy at the hero's ball, when he hit me from behind with a stunning spell in the corridor! He then snarled at us all for time wasting and gossiping, told us we were the biggest bunch of dunderheads he had ever had the misfortune to teach, then disappeared of to the dungeon. I mean since when was talking in the corridors banned. My parents intend to make a formal complaint." Stated a Miss Greengrass of Hogwarts School of Witch Craft And Wizardry.

Draco snorted out the tea he was drinking as that particular paragraph was read.

"Do you agree Hermione?" He had asked.

"God no." Hermione had responded cheerfully only to scowl moments later when Draco smirked "looks like we made two people jealous then sweetheart."

Neville and Ron looked at them with confusion unable to follow the direction of the conversation. Harry had looked away muttering something that sounded threatening. Luna had just smiled in her angelic way and said, "The professor is frustrated, and I sense he fears loneliness. He has suffered for too long, he's been offered something he thinks he shouldn't want and cannot have and yet his heart is treacherous and love covers a multitude of sins."

Then Hermione had choked on her tea. "Why do you say that Luna? Who would offer him anything?" Harry stared at Hermione incredulously while Ron laughed outright at the thought of Snape even having a heart. Meanwhile Neville continued to look on thoughtfully. Draco waited with a full-blown smirk on his face for Luna to respond. He had been disappointed when she just smiled wistfully and shook her head.

Draco leaned over Hermione and had bated her by saying "What have you offered him?"

Hermione had dug him in the ribs effectively ending the conversation somewhat unsatisfactorily for all but Luna.

Now they all stood at Snape's door Hermione and Harry had a small argument over who would knock, Harry lost and as he raised his fist he whispered to Hermione,

"I hope he's not asleep again or playing dead."

'"I doubt it, he's had a sleep and he was awake when I left him." Hermione whispered back.

Harry faltered exclaiming "What? … Why were you?... Oh my god I don't want to know."

Hermione blushed as she realised how that sounded "Its not like it sounds." She said quickly.

"Merlin's Beard what are you two whispering about? Just knock on the bloody door already." Ron cut in impatiently.

The door flew open before Harry could reply, and a deep baritone voice said "Stop loitering at my door like a bunch of idiot carol singers and get inside."

They all trooped in and waited to learn what the next twenty-four hours had in store.

Snape explained the significance that the veil possibly held and suggested they visited the department of mysteries. His explanation of the last few days left a lot out, he barely mentioned the Kitsune, and he avoided any speech or eye contact with Hermione.

Hermione stood mutely listening to the professor's rough unsatisfactory explanations.

Ron finally interrupted him saying

" I'm sorry sir, but just how do you expect to get into the department? I work there, I'm not allowed to let you in to that particular chamber, I'm not even supposed to discuss it."

"We will get in the way the Death Eaters did, by force. Admittedly it would be a lot easier if you just let us in Mr Weasley."

"What and lose my Job? Are you mental?"

"The daily prophet would like to think so, certainly. However what is more important Mr Weasley, liberty and life or employment?"

"Well when you put it like that, fine…fine I will let you in, Cho could blow our secret though."

"I doubt even Miss Chang would be diligent enough to be at work at that hour." Replied the Professor.

"Sorry Sir I'm still confused, why do we care if the cloak came from the veil? We don't want to make these items work, Dumbledore said it's not safe." Harry interrupted.

"No we don't Potter, but Voldermort does! We need to disable it somehow, that is if it is connected to the Hallows. If we all go, we should be more than a match for any Death Eater that may have stumbled on this same theory."

"I suppose that makes sense, get there before they do." Harry said still unsure but glancing at Hermione for her reaction.

Hermione just nodded slightly at him, it was enough to convince him to go along with whatever Snape suggested."

"Mr Potter I'm afraid I need to borrow your cloak."

Harry looked at the professor suspiciously.

"Why?"

"I need to examine some of its properties and structural make up."

Snape explained with a forced politeness.

"Alright but I want the wand in exchange."

"Harry!" Exclaimed Hermione crossly.

"What?" he snapped swinging round to face her.

"What does the Professor have to do to gain your respect and trust?" She asked furiously.

"I don't know! Trust no one that's the motto to live by."

"I trust you, don't you trust me?" Hermione asked sadly.

There was a hush in the room as everyone expected Harry to agree.

"I did, but now your slightly deluded in another's character and favour. Yes you and Ron are like my family but you are bias and I'm not sure that your judgement is not impaired."

Tears Sprung up in Hermione's eyes and she gasped slightly as she struggled to stop them falling.

"Harry how could you? Take it back!" Ron punched Harry in the back as he admonished him.

Ron walked over to Hermione and held her hand "I trust you." He said.

Hermione smiled through her threatening tears gratefully.

"Alright, Alright here, have the damn cloak, keep the wand. Its just hard to break a ten year habit of dislike and distrust, no offence."

Harry threw the cloak to Snape, who was still not looking at Hermione. Snape caught it deftly and said. "Non taken Mr Potter, I feel you may have offended Miss Granger, but that's your concern."

Hermione had unfortunately begun to cry in earnest at this point. Harry walked over to her mortified.

"Sorry." He said stroking her arm gently; while Ron and Draco glared at him.

Hermione covered her eyes and composed herself.

"It's ok Harry, we all say things we don't mean. It hurt, but its not really you hurting me. I'm still tired and overwhelmed, Sorry for the tears."

"You have every right to them, I do trust you." Harry said gentley.

"I know." She said softly.

At this Snape drew himself up to full height, and with his deep unconcerned voice he ordered them to leave his office." All right, I think I've taken as much melodramatics as I can stand, I suggest you leave, rest up and prepare for tonight. I will meet you all after I have briefed the Minister and Headmistress. Eleven o'clock in the entrance hall. Don't make me wait…Go on get out!" he said waving his arms towards the door.

They all quickly left following Neville who was first to bolt; Hermione was last still holding hands with Ron. As she stepped over the threshold Snape spoke again.

"Miss Granger, A moment please." Ron looked at Hermione in sympathetic apprehension. Hermione nodded at Ron and let go of his hand giving him a little push and a muttered

"Go ahead, see you in a moment."

She stepped back in the room and waited.

Snape sighed and to her surprise passed her a black handkerchief. "For a girl who appears to have endless crisis's in life why do you never have a handkerchief?"

"Hermione wiped her eyes and held the handkerchief against her face for a moment.

"Because Sir they are an old fashioned item, and a lady always hopes someone will wipe her tears for her."

"Don't let Potter make you cry again, its not good for his ego. He's still an immature arrogant fool."

"As are you sir." Hermione retorted. Then she audibly gasped at her audacious comment.

Snape's dark eyes narrowed, he drew back slightly.

"No one, and I mean no one speaks to me like that. Yet I can't find it in me to do anything about it, I don't think I can even chastise you. I can only repeat, don't cry over Potter's pointless words."

"It wasn't Harry making me cry." Hermione turned to the door to leave.

"If that Is all Professor I will go now, fun though it's been."

In a flash Snape was at the door blocking her departure. He lowed his head, his hair obscuring much of his features. "Please tell me they weren't for me?"

Hermione stood straight and firm and said clearly, "They weren't for you."

Snape leaned against the door and looked up to the ceiling letting out a long breath. It was with a sinking heart he realised he wished they were for him.

"They were for me. They were completely selfish tears. I want to hate you, and to laugh at you, but I can't. Then you said I was Harry's concern, I knew in that moment how silly I was to think you could ever be concerned about me. So now I think I just hate myself. Please get out of the way I wish to leave."

Snape motioned to leave the door but then stopped. "I have carried your unconscious body three times in as many months, I have held you twice in my arms as you slept. I've cried on your shoulder…" He shuddered in abhorrence of that memory, continuing "I've fought for you, killed for you, Danced with you and read poetry with you. I've sent you gifts, I pleaded for your life and cried when I thought you were dead, I've kissed your face while you were sleeping … please tell me at which point I failed to show concern for you?"

Hermione faltered in her movements to sweep past him for the door.

"The point now, when all I want is for you to hold me and say you want me, not just through duty or because our lives are in danger or because you've been pushed into a situation, but because you want to!"

Snape stood aside from the door; she miserably walked past him to leave. His strong hands reached out for her and grabbed her to him. Hermione, after a second's hesitation wrapped her arms around his neck as he held her against him firmly, one hand found its way in to her hair. He stroked the thick curls soothingly. Hermione's head fell lightly in the crook of his neck and he could feel the moisture of her tears.

He rubbed his cheek gently against the side of her half hidden face. Caressing her gently, he whispered, "You're killing me."

He brought the hand down from her hair, his fingertips pressed lightly under her chin and lifted her face up.

Hermione's eyes were tightly closed; she was trembling slightly in his arms. She felt the wisps of his hair against her face and she felt his cold lips touch her warm cheek. "Don't ask for anything more…not yet." He breathed into her skin.

Letting go of her back and reaching up he brought her hands down opened the door and said "I will see you with the others at Eleven o'clock in the entrance hall do not be late."

Hermione smiled, nodded and left.


	37. Cigarettes and jitters

**Sorry for late update,(started a new job) also this is a short chapter and just a filler, I'm working on the next bit right now so Im hoping to get it finished soon. As always thanks to my beta and thanks for reading it.**

"You're not going on your own with a bunch of barely qualified wizards!"

Shouted McGonagall angrily.

"A bunch of barely qualified wizards who defeated the Dark Lord when the order failed! We will be fine Kingsley, painful though it is to admit, I am confident in Potter's abilities." Snape replied evenly.

"They are capable Wizards, as are you Severus. Even so, I'm going with you, at least I can let you into the ministry legally." The minister was firm in voice, the look of determination he gave Snape clearly demonstrated his inflexibility in this matter.

"That would be very useful, Weasley was reluctant to abuse his somewhat tenuous position. However..." Snape glanced over towards the headmistress. "I will not allow Minerva to accompany the party."

"I beg you pardon?" The headmistress immediately interjected.

"No offence, but you're getting a bit old Minerva."

"How dare you... Severus that's incredibly offensive."

"It's kindly meant."

"Yet expressed in the worst possible manner. Do you have any social graces?"

Snape scoffed,

"What do you think? Don't ask questions to which you know the answer."

"It was rhetorical!"

"Then make it clear that you expect no response from me, I'm not playing grammatical or oratorical games with you now. I am resolute in this matter. I'm not having you place your life in jeopardy again."

The portrait of Albus Dumbledore coughed lightly and joined the conversation.

"Minerva, you are more than a match for any wizard. However your duty is to the school, you must remain here my dear."

His eyes stared through his half moon glasses down at the indignant woman's furious face.

"I understand that Albus, but excuse me if I show some reluctance to except Severus' statements that clearly elude to my galloping senility."

"That's not what I said, Minerva and you are quite aware of my meaning, I resent being forced to explain myself to you. Thankfully, there are few people in this world for whom I fear. In point of fact their are just two. I have no wish for it to become just one."

"Is that a very complicated way of finally admitting we are friends." The headmistress raised an eyebrow and eyed him suspiciously.

"Take it however you want Minerva just stay in the damn castle."

"Fine, I will remain at the school. I suggest Kingsley...Severus, that you Prepare for departure, at your request Minister the flue is open from my office and is at your disposal. Please feel free to check its security yourself."

The minister for Magic stepped forward and raised his wand in the direction of the fire. Checking its security for travel, while the headmistress continued to talk.

" The time is approaching, the others will be gathering at the entrance hall, bring them here and please Severus, keep me informed, because your safety is also of deep concern to me, as mine seems to be to you."

Snape inclined his head in acknowledgement of her comment.

Then swept away with Kingsley in and the Minister for magic strode through the corridors of Hogwarts with determination and speed. They halted outside Snape's rooms.

"I will only be a moment Kingsley."

"Sure thing Severus, I can wait." Kingsley stood like an unyielding statue against the wall. Content to wait outside.

Snape entered his rooms and quickly made his way to the Kitsune's gift.

He removed the revolver from its box, checked it was loaded and primed for use, then placed it in the inside pocket of his cloak.

"Kreacher!"

There was a sharp crack and the wizened old elf appeared.

"Yes Master?"

"For Merlin's good name, how many times? I'm not your master, no one is! If you even had a master it would be Potter."

Kreacher's low toned mumbling answered him, his large elf head inclined to the side as he measured his words.

"I'm sorry sir... summon Kreacher that's what you did. You summoned Kreacher like a master."

"Yes ... well no... no, I didn't I called for you, as a friend. We've been over this. I wanted to ask you if you would help me."

Kreacher visibly shrank back and trembled horribly.

Snape held his hand out in a calm down gesture, he spoke quickly to reassure the elf.

"No, no ...Kreacher, I'm not asking you to go back there. I will never take you back there."

Kreacher wrung his hands together and peered up at Snape nervously.

"What do you need?" He croaked.

Snape lowered himself to the small elf's level. Crouching on his haunches,

He gazed at the creature so aptly named. "Next time I call you... I need you to bring Hermione Granger away from where ever she is. Don't wait, don't ask just take her away. Bring her here. Protect her until I return."

"Will you return...sir?"

The wrinkle ensconced eyes, seemed to widen slightly with apprehension.

"For the first time in my miserable existence...I dare to hope. However should I not, please give her this." He handed a small envelope to the elf. The gnarled old fingers grasped around it, drawing it in.

"Then if I do not return, insure her safety. Take her to the Headmistress. Please be kind to her. I know you don't approve of her birth."

"Mud is cold. Her blood is hot, flowing with life. It makes the heart beat faster, enlarging the motivation for life. The fire that flows through those veins destroyed Kreacher's prejudice. There is nothing muddy or dirty about such purity of life, such a large heart. Kreacher will protect that blood with out masters asking. Knowing to protect Kreacher she would also."

Snape remained motionless for a few seconds, trying to take in the elf's garbled words.

He opted for a very simple "Thank you."

Raising himself up he turned and left, hoping against hope that the little elf would have no need to act.

It wasn't long before the young group of wizards were huddled together in the entrance hall of the castle. Neville and Luna stood silently hands entwined. Their countenances pale but determinedly facing the rest of the group.

Draco was slightly agitated, his pale thin fingers tapping urgently against his folded arm.

"For God's sake Draco stop fidgeting." Harry finally growled at him. "Your making me nervous."

"I just really need a smoke."

Groaned Draco.

"Snape's coming, he's got the Minister with him. " Ron whispered digging Harry in the ribs.

Harry looked up to see the Minister and the professor approaching.

Draco's fingers trembled quite dramatically, Hermione reached out and took his nearest hand in hers.

"You don't need to smoke. We are all in this together." she whispered.

Draco squeezed her warm palm, grateful for the pressure, that was dulling the need to feel a cigarette between his fingers.

Snape swept a dark look over the group, and stood before them with his arms folded.

"On time, I'm somewhat impressed.

The Minister for Magic is accompanying us to the ministry. Your aid in entering the department of mysteries is no longer required Mr Weasley. However your assistance in other areas of this operation will doubtless be invaluable." Snape raised a sardonic eyebrow at this, and watched Ron squirm slightly.

The Minister broke the uncomfortable silence that followed.

"I feel the best approach would be to floo straight into the ministry. I have secured this avenue of transport myself and I have no reason to believe it has been tampered with. So lets make our way to the Headmistress' office and avail ourselves of her fire place.

They set off silently towards the office, with Kingsley leading the way.

Snape trailed at the back of the group. His eyes narrowed as he looked at Draco.

"Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy is a big boy now, he hardly needs his hand holding." He commented dryly.

Draco flushed and tried to drop Hermione's hand. She held on grimly and said, "I beg your pardon professor, but I'm holding Draco's hand to keep it away from the cigarette packet I know he's got in his pocket, plus I need a little bit of solidarity in comradeship too, so it was mutually beneficial."

Draco scowled at her immediately.

"I would ask you to help your Godson professor, but I fear you have a similar addiction." She said snidely.

"Hermione I'm not going to smoke ok? Let go." Draco requested. He was not enjoying the heat of his Godfathers gaze.

Hermione let go of Draco's hand mid walk. Nobody had listened to the heated interchange or turned round to see what discussion was taking place. It was therefore of complete surprise to the others when Snape over took the minister at great speed dragging Draco along by the hand.

"What the hell Sir!" He growled angrily as he felt his arm pull at the socket.

They overtook the others by a good distance, reaching the third floor first. At the stone gargoyle Snape stopped abruptly, bumping Draco to a halt.

"Alright, hand them over Malfoy."

"Bloody hell, why should I? I'm an adult it's legal!"

Dropping his hand from the crushing grip, Snape frisked Malfoy's pockets.

"Because if I don't get a cigarette in the next five minutes I'm going to hex the lot of you." Swiftly he pulled out the packet from Draco's robes.

Draco let out an angry snort and yanked the packet back off him with lightning speed. He smirked at his Godfathers surprised face.

"Here, you can have one." He removed one from the packet and held it in front of Snape's face.

"Where are your own?" Draco asked.

"I forgot." Snape growled grabbing the cigarette from the outstretched hand.

"I would save it for later sir, they are catching up. Hermione wouldn't like it."

"And that concerns me why?" Snape snarled.

Draco regretfully placed the pack back in his robes.

"Your going to kill each other, you do know that don't you?" He said smiling a knowing smile that made Snape want to smack it off his face.

"I don't know what your implying."

He said sharply, turning his head to the direction of the footsteps fast approaching.

"Don't worry I'm not going to steal your girlfriend, and she doesn't like smokers... Just so you know. You might need some of those little muggle sticky things instead."

"Why you impudent little..."

He broke off as the Minister approached him.

"Trouble already Severus?" he asked.

Snape pocketed the cigarette quickly.

"Not at all Kingsley, my godson is just a little provoking at times."

Draco smiled broadly at the Minister

Who shock his head in a puzzled way.

"Are either of you going to go in?"

"Certainly... " Snape stepped forward and uttered the highly inappropriate password "Cherry lips."

The gargoyle rotated aside in response to a password, displaying the circular stairs.

"After you Kingsley." Snape moved to one side, gesturing to the troop to go on.

For a second he allowed his gaze to pause on Hermione, as her arm slowly brushed past him. She disarmed him completely with a knowing smile.

It was only as he followed her up the stairs that he realised the cigarette in his pocket had gone.


End file.
